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I just hadn’t anticipated his reaction to be this extreme.

Or how much I needed it.

“Did you think it would be that easy to run from me?”

Behind the rage in his voice was a wretched hurt that squeezed at my heart.

I knew his anger was just a mask for the hurt. I knew that better than anyone. And to think it’d been me that had caused it, after everything he’d done for me…

Fuck, I truly hated myself in this moment. Deeply.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? That I wouldn’t search to the ends of the earth for you?”

I could hardly think let alone draw enough breath in to answer him. He didn’t want an answer, anyway. He wanted to vent all his pain and I would let him.

He’d never let me go and I was a fool to believe that in the first place. I was a fool to believe I had the will to leave him, too.

“I love you, Whitney. How could you abandon me like that?”

Those words were like a knife to my chest, and I choked on a sob.

No. No, no, no. Hearing him say it, after showing me for weeks, after what I’d just done…

“Court,” I said wetly, tears constricting my throat. The pleasure and pain were too much, he’d made me come too many times, and the agonizing juxtaposition of his anguish was scraping me raw.

When he pinched my clit and pushed inside me, I jerked and came again with a shout, then went limp as all the energy drained from my body as he kept fucking me.

I’d left the house with a resolve that had quickly depleted as every single memory of Court and the things he’d said and done for me overtook the fear of Angelo coming after me.

I hadn’t been able to leave him, in the end. I’d turned around after an hour of mindless walking, gotten lost, tried to find my way back and had been so frustrated because why the fuck was there so much land—until I’d spotted the familiar copse of trees.

The relief that had crashed through me seeing those trees had me running until my lungs were burning. But when I’d finally broken through to the other side, there was Court.

One look at the murderous expression on his face had sent a delicious frisson of fear skating down my spine. I was wet before I even started running. I’d wanted him to chase me, like it was some kind of confirmation that he really truly wanted me.

He’d never been this angry since I’d met him, not once.

And it was because of me.

I’d made him lose control like that. I shouldn’t love that. I really shouldn’t. But I was a backwards person and the pure thrill of knowing that I was the reason he’d snapped burned like a shot of whiskey down my throat, spreading a fire through my veins and warmth in my belly.

But the anguish in his being, his fear that I’d abandoned him, and the pain I’d caused him had those backwards feelings withering right up.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. My voice was a faint croak, my throat ravaged from all the screaming I’d done. It was fully dark now; I had no idea how much time had passed since he’d found me, but it was dark and the cicadas were buzzing in an endless wave. It was lulling me into an in-between state, and when Court brushed my hair from my face, it felt like I was swimming through cobwebs.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured, peppering kisses across my cheek, down my throat. He pulled me into his arms and stood, cradling me against his chest like the most precious thing.

Home.

His shoulders and chest were heaving, and he was holding me so tightly, as if he was afraid I’d slip away and disappear.

I placed my palm over his racing heart. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“You will be if you ever run away again,” was his curt reply. But he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, then rubbed his cheek over the same spot and my tired heart kicked at my ribcage.

He gave me a bath.

I was too tired to do anything but let him wash me like I was some kind of doll. He got in the tub with me, methodically scrubbing every inch of my dirty body. He didn’t say a word the entire time, like he was processing everything that happened.