“Oh, he’s coming back,” she vowed. “If I have to knock him out, tie him up and drag him back home, I’m not leaving here without him.”
Raid chuckled and leaned down to kiss her brow. “You know what? I believe you, little sister.” Then his expression became serious again. “Do you want me to go in first?”
She rolled her eyes. “Guy would never hurt me. You should be worried I’ll hurt him. But, no. This is private. I don’t want anyone in there but me and him.”
Raid nodded and started back down the hall. She waited for him to disappear before she turned back to Guy’s door. Her hand hovered over the knob, afraid the door would be locked and he’d refuse to let her in. Then she shook her head. There were over twenty people downstairs who could easily break down the door. One way or another she was going in.
To her relief, when she quietly twisted the knob, it was unlocked and the door opened a fraction. Still, she hesitated, because for all her bravado and determination, she was terrified he wouldn’t even look at her. Acknowledge her. Listen to her.
From inside came an irritated growl. “I said to leave me the fuck alone. What don’t you interfering assholes understand about that?”
Honor shoved open the door all the way, stomping into the bedroom, her hands on her hips. When Hancock saw her he nearly fell off the bed. He scrambled to sit up, his face drawn with shock. And then so much grief and regret and self-loathing replaced his initial shock and it nearly brought her to her knees.
In that moment she knew she would have to be the strong one. She couldn’t allow an ounce of past hurts in her eyes, because it would destroy him and he’d never listen to her. He’d never hear her. He’d drive her away, convinced that he’d only hurt her again and again. At least one of them had sense, and it wasn’t him at the moment.
So instead of throwing herself into his arms like she ached to do and cry for all that had been lost and how much she loved him, she was going to have to dish out some tough love.
“Is that any way to speak to your family?” she demanded, her foot tapping on the floor in reprimand.
“Honor?”
His voice was shaken, so hoarse that her name was nearly indecipherable, his eyes ravaged by grief and pain. So much hurt that her throat closed up on her, rendering her momentarily unable to speak. She forgot all about tough love and being the bitch.
She couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer, and she flung herself at his body so he had no choice but to catch her or be bowled over by her. Her hands came to rest on his cheeks as she stared down at the stirrings of hope in Guy’s eyes. He swallowed and then looked away, as if refusing to even entertain such an emotion, but she wouldn’t have it. She too had refused herself hope, and she’d been wrong. She should have fought, like she was prepared to fight now. It was a battle she couldn’t lose or it would destroy her. She wouldn’t lose.
She firmly guided his face back to hers and simply stared him down until he finally, reluctantly lifted his eyes and met her gaze.
“Yes, it’s me,” she said in a husky voice. “And I have to tell you, Guy Hancock, I am not very happy with you right now.”
“Why should you be?” he asked in a pained voice.
She made a sound of exasperation. “You didn’t betray me, and we both know it. Or you should. If you weren’t so bent on convincing yourself that you’re this horrible monster, you’d realize you did not betray me.”
“How could you possibly think I didn’t?” he asked incredulously.
She rolled her eyes. “Well of course in the beginning I thought just that. But, gee, if someone had troubled himself to tell me what really happened when you let me believe you were flying me to give me to ANE—something else I’m extremely pissed about, by the way—neither of us would have suffered for the last several months.”
“I lied to you. I drugged you, something I swore I would never do again. And I failed you, Honor. I let that bastard get to you and he tortured you for days before I could find you.”
“Did it ever occur to you even once to tell me what happened and allow me the luxury of deciding whether you betrayed me or not? Instead, you played judge and jury for me. You were so convinced that you had done exactly those things that you decided for me that I was never going to know. That is the only thing I’m angry with you over. Well, not even angry, but hurt. You hurt me, Guy,” she said painfully. “For five long months I hurt. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. It’s the God’s truth, I wanted to die. I gave up. I didn’t want to live without you. Can’t you understand that?”
Her voice was pleading. Precariously close to begging, but God, she had no pride whatsoever when it came to this man. She’d crawl if she had to. Anything to make him come back to her. To love her as much as she loved him.
He stared at her with those haunted eyes, and he clearly had no idea how to respond. He was so assured of his guilt that no, it hadn’t occurred to him to give her the choice of judgment.
He simply ran his hands over her face, her lips, her neck, shoulders, over and over as if he really didn’t believe she was here.
“You hate me,” he whispered in a tortured voice. “God, I hate myself.”
“Look at me, Guy,” she said tenderly. “See me.”
He stared into her eyes for what seemed an eternity before it seemed to register with him. There was no hatred there. No fear. No sense of betrayal or hurt. Only love. And tenderness, compassion and a vow to always protect him. That he’d always be safe with her. His heart would always be safe with her.