Fight for You Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Virgin Tags Authors: Nichole Rose Advertisement

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I'm losing her. She's slipping away right in front of my eyes. I can see it happening.

I want to drop to my knees and beg for her forgiveness, but I can't. Because I haven't even finished telling her my sins.

"When he told me what was going on," I whisper, determined to get it all out there now, "I told him I'd pay. I didn't give a fuck if Kaleo came after me. I just wanted him safe, but I thought we had a little more time.” I shove my hand into my hair and pull, trying to ground myself in reality…trying to punish myself, I guess. "I saw the bike that night. We were on our way to Ma Lucia's so I could tell you about the money, and that bike was creeping down the block. I thought…I thought…I don't know what I thought. I wasn't fucking thinking."

That's the thing that still haunts me. When I wake up in a cold sweat, my throat burning from the way I screamed in my sleep…that's what I think about. That fucking SUV. Had I just thought for one goddamn second, I could have saved Titan and Jana. I could have told them to stay in the house or to hide or to do something. Instead, I brushed it off, too caught up in my own bullshit to fucking think.

I let them walk outside, oblivious to the fact that death was circling the block, waiting for an opportunity to take Titan out.

I would have opened my veins and bled for him, but I didn't. He died in my arms, and I didn’t do a goddamn thing to save him.

I've had years to think about how I could have done things different. How I could have told him and January about the money. How I could have gone straight to January instead of going after Kaleo when Tony attacked her. How I could have told her or Jana or fucking anyone when I found out about Titan dealing. How I could have gone right then and there to pay those motherfuckers off when Titan told me what was going on. There were a million different choices I could have made to change what happened. A thousand different ways I could have saved Titan.

January's mom and brother were gunned down in the streets because I was so fucking afraid of losing them that I pushed Titan onto a collision course with a train.

I let my best friend die for my sins.

And now January knows it too.

"When I got to him, he was still breathing," I whisper. "I couldn't…I couldn't make it stop. I couldn't keep him breathing." A groan climbs up my throat. "I failed you over and over again. Both of you."

She shakes her head, not speaking.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, knowing those words won't make a damn bit of difference. They won't unwind the hands of time and bring her brother and her mom back. They won't undo the years of grief and pain she's endured. I say them to make myself feel better, because at the end of the day, I'm still a selfish motherfucker and I need to say them, even if they don't do a goddamn thing to ease her pain. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby girl."

"Don't," she whispers. "Don't call me that."

My heart fractures, shredding into tiny pieces. Every single one of them cuts deep, making me bleed in places that have already been hemorrhaging for years. They hurt like a motherfucker…and that's almost a relief. This is the punishment I deserve. The one I ran from back then. So long as I didn't come back, there was always a little sliver of hope that she didn't truly hate me. That somewhere, she was lying awake at night, missing me too.

Now though? That hope is gone. I see it in her eyes.

Revulsion.

Abhorrence.

Hatred.

And this is what hell really feels like. This is what I'll remember when someone finally steps from the shadows to kill me. When my life flashes before my eyes, it'll be the expression on her face right now that chases me straight to hell.

"I need you to leave," she says, her voice shaking with emotion. She rises to her feet, all five foot, two inches of her stands up in front of me, her shoulders back and her head held high like the fucking goddess she is.

She doesn't cry.

She doesn't scream or yell or throw things.

Those grief-stricken, horror-filled emerald eyes meet mine as she points at the door. "I need you to go right now."

I don't try to fight her. How can I? She deserves this moment, and I'll be damned if I take it away from her. Instead, I jerk my head in a nod, grab my bag, and do what she says.

"I love you," I tell her as I stride across the room. I'm still selfish. I'm still greedy. With her, I always will be. "I'll always love you, January. And I'll always be waiting for you."

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