BROKEN VOWS (Broken Redemption Book 1)

Chapter 7

Lucas

"I'm fucked up, Embree. There's nothing left of the boy you used to know. I'm nothing but this angry, bitter, jaded shell of a man who's a danger to anyone he gets close to. Trust me, I'm not someone you want around. I don't belong here. Not anymore."

This isn't what I intended when I agreed to meet. The plan was to give her an hour, answer some of her questions, then leave with an open invitation to exchange an occasional text. But this? Agreeing to talk to my sister? Thinking of extending my stay?

"I'm so sorry, Lucas," she responds, her gaze dropping to her hands which wring nervously on the table.

At first, her words come as a relief. The pressure in my gut easing the tiniest bit at the thought that she might understand. But when her posture slumps and her lower lip quivers, I wish I could take it all back...

Running into her yesterday.

Agreeing to this meeting.

Returning to this town when I knew it was a mistake.

Desperate to fix what I've done, I reach for her hands, only to watch as she pulls them away. Though I understand why, her reaction stings nonetheless.

"Don't. Don't you dare apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for," I snap in frustration, angry at myself as much as at the unpleasant sensation gnawing away in my chest.

"You're wrong." She rushes on, while angrily wiping away the tears running down her face. "I do owe you an apology. For pressuring you into meeting me here, for guilting you into talking to Jen. For putting my needs above yours, just like I did back then. I should have known you weren't okay that night. I should have seen what you were planning to do. It was up to me to stop you, but I didn't. Don't you see, Lucas? I have a lot to be sorry for. I failed you."

Her words land like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath and rendering me speechless. The raw anguish that emanates from her rips into my heart, shredding me to pieces in ways I don't know how I'll recover from.

All this time, I'd convinced myself she'd hate me for what I did. That she would see my actions for what they were. Selfish and cruel. Because it was me who used her to ease my grief and stole her virginity in the process. It was me who slept with her and took my fill, before running away, leaving her and my problems behind like the coward that I am.

In all my consideration, not once did I imagine she'd turn the blame onto herself. To hear that's exactly what she's done is abhorrent to me. She doesn't deserve any of this. The guilt. The regret. It's a burden that belongs squarely on my shoulders. Not hers.

Fuck! What have I done?

Rubbing at the back of my neck, I can't help but question how the hell I could have done this to her. How could I have abandoned the girl I claimed to love, leaving her to bear the brunt of my mistakes while I slunk off into the night? I fucking left her all alone. Gave her no choice but to pick up the broken pieces of my grief after I dumped them at her feet to ease my conscience. What the fuck kind of man does that make me? Could it be that all the poison and darkness, all the terrible things that make me the shittiest of humans and which I thought were a byproduct of my trauma... could it be that this is who I've always been?

"You think you could have stopped me?" I scoff, inadvertently spewing more anger in her direction, even though the venom is meant for me.

When she recoils at my tone, I'm taken aback by the overwhelming panic that settles like a heavy boulder in my chest. This visit has gone to shit. Everything I feared is coming to pass, and the longer we sit here—her broken and silent, me broken and angry—well, there's just no way in hell I'm letting things end like this.