Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 51

Rafe's POV

As soon as the car door slams shut behind her, a sickening wave of regret hits me like a sledgehammer. "Fuck!" I roar, slamming my fist into the steering wheel, the horn blaring angrily in response.

Why the fuck did I say that? Why did I tell her I don't regret it? She already hates me enough... and now, now she's going to despise me even more. Goddammit, Rafe. Goddamn fucking idiot.

My hands shake as I watch Teresa walk up to her front door, her shoulders hunched as if she's carrying the weight of the world on them—weight I put there. She doesn't look back, not even once, and something inside me shatters, splintering into sharp, jagged pieces that cut deep.

"Stupid," I mutter under my breath, the word barely audible as I reach up and grip my hair, yanking at it in frustration. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

But the anger inside me won't stay quiet. It's roaring, seething, boiling over until I can't hold it back anymore. I slam my head against the back of the seat, once, twice, the dull pain radiating through my skull not nearly enough to drown out the shame.

"Fuck!" I scream, the sound raw and hoarse, reverberating in the confined space of the car. I can still see her eyes—those beautiful green eyes that used to look at me with so much love, so much trust. Now they just looked scared. Scared of me.

What the fuck have I done?

I grab the sides of my head, digging my fingers into my scalp as if I can claw out the thoughts, the regret, the self-loathing. "You fucking idiot, Rafe. You fucking ruined it. You're losing her... you're losing her and it's your fault."

I slam my head back again, harder this time, the pain a temporary relief from the chaos inside me. But it's not enough. It'll never be enough. Because no matter what I do, no matter how much I punish myself, it won't change the fact that I said it—that I actually admitted out loud that I don't regret killing her aunt.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I rest my forehead on the steering wheel. "She's going to leave me," I whisper, the words falling from my lips like a death sentence. "She's going to leave, and it's all my fault."

And what then? What the fuck do I have if I lose her? Nothing. There's nothing left. No family, no future, no life. Just emptiness. A hollow shell of who I used to be. Teresa's the only good thing I've ever had, and I'm fucking destroying it—destroying her.

I pound my fist against the dashboard, each thud reverberating through my bones. "Stupid. Fucking. Idiot." I hiss through clenched teeth, anger and desperation swirling inside me like a tornado. Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I be the man she needs me to be?

The image of her face when I said it—the hurt, the disbelief—flashes through my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out. But it's there, burned into my memory like a brand. I can't escape it. I can't escape her.

I finally raise my head, staring blankly out the windshield at her front door. She's inside now, probably crying because of me, because I'm such a fucked-up, possessive mess who can't control himself. My chest aches, the guilt suffocating me like a vise.

Teresa's POV

The front door closes behind me with a soft click, and I barely make it two steps into the house before I see my dad standing in the hallway. His brows furrow with concern as he takes in the sight of me, my tear-stained face, the way my body is trembling.

"Teresa? Honey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice gentle but worried.

I don't know how to answer him. How can I explain what I'm feeling without revealing everything?