Perfectly Scripted (29 page)

“I’ve let you down. I can’t…” Scrubbing his eyes, he shook his head.

Pushing to my feet, I grasped Ronan’s hand in mine. “Come with me, and let’s get you some tea along with a B12.”

As he slowly rose from the bed, he let out a laugh. “You remembered my hangover cure.”

“Yes, but in your case, we’ll call it a preventative measure.”

I padded to the butler’s pantry, leaving Ronan in the living room. Obviously, we needed to have a conversation about this afternoon’s incident. But, with Ronan in the state he was in, it wasn’t the right time. So I grabbed the chamomile tea then added hot water to the mug. After preparing his tea, I took the bottle of B12 out of the drawer.

When I came back to the living room, Ronan gave me a weak smile. Once he’d swallowed the pill dry, he sipped the tea.

“You did an excellent job making the tea.”

I laughed. “I’m glad you approve. It’s hard work dunking a tea bag into hot water.”

“I love your smart mouth.”

He finished his tea and pulled me closer to him. I ran my fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp and the back of his neck.

He hugged me tighter and said, “I love you, Holliday. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, kissing his forehead. “I’ll keep you safe as well.”

His shoulders finally relaxed, and I felt his warm breath through the cotton of my shirt.

“You should marry me.”

I froze, an avalanche of emotions slammed into me. After swallowing hard, I said, “Say that again, Ronan.”

Quiet fell around me. No words came. Ronan had drifted off to dreamland, and I didn’t move or make a sound.

Marry Ronan.

My gaze drifted to the window, and I watched beads of rain slide down the glass.

“
Holliday
.”

I stirred at the sound of Ronan’s voice and the feel of his hands gliding down my rib cage. When I opened my sleepy eyes, the room was lit with the soft glow of sunshine. Glittering and beautiful, the new day offered a radiant promise.

Much like the man before me, who, last night, had whispered words—warm, wonderful words. I wiped the tired ache from my eyes to admire a freshly showered Ronan. And, of course, there was no sign that he’d had too much to drink the night before. His eyes were bright and wide. No redness or dark circles, and his skin had a warm glow. My hands caressed the back of his neck. With a cocky grin, he wasted no time pulling me to the floor and sliding my pants down my legs.

“This is some wake-up call.”

“Good morning, my beauty,” he said, pushing his hands through my hair and down my neck.

“I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you,” he said, lowering his lips to mine. He licked my mouth, taking me in a hot, demanding kiss.

My mind swirled at his words. I wanted to ask him if he remembered what he’d said last night. But I didn’t want to come off sounding like “that girl.” Needy.
Desperate
.

Eyeing his perfect face, I said, “Ronan, we should talk about yesterday and last night.”

“I’d rather save the talking for later,” he said, taking my nipple in his mouth through my tank top.

His mouth was warm and wet, which sent shocks of pleasure dashing through my entire body. It was going to be difficult to concentrate with Ronan freely seducing me.

In an attempt to move out from under his frame, I shoved at his shoulder. It was no use though; he caught my arms and pinned them above my head with one hand. He trailed kisses from my earlobe to the crook of my neck, pushing his free hand beneath my shirt.

“Before you fuck the brain out of my head,” I said, grinding my hips against him, “I really do think we should have a conversation.”

He laughed, his lips vibrating against my skin. “And what would the beautiful lady like to discuss that cannot possibly wait?”

Ronan loosened his grip, and I moved to sit up. Following my lead, he rose to his knees, settling across from me on the plush carpet. I began telling him about what exactly happened. He listened intently as I described from the point where Derek recognized my scar to when I was able to talk my way out of the room.

“Quite the bold move. You’re incredibly brave.” He cocked his head, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Physically, I am fine. Mentally, I feel relieved.”

His brow scrunched together. “Relieved, huh? Tell me about that.”

I twisted my body, taking his hands in mine. “I realized something. Even though I had a mental flip or break after my encounter with Derek, I don’t feel scared anymore.”

The pad of his thumb stroked my knuckles.

“I know that sounds crazy, but today, I feel nothing but relief.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Really?”

“Yes, because all of this time, I’d lived in fear about what it would be like if he’d found me,” I replied, my voice getting louder with each word. “Wondering what would happen. Would he make good on his promise? And now, I know.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

I shrugged. “I get that there are no guarantees, but I have a feeling—a good feeling.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand this, Holliday. Yesterday, you were completely out of it. You were in
shock
, for Christ’s sakes,” he snapped as he pushed to his feet. “Fuck, when the staff found you, you were mumbling, staring at picture like a zombie.” His body vibrated with anger, and his jaw tightened. “This guy needs to be put behind bars. He’s a fucking criminal. You should press charges for yesterday at the very least.”

I was on my feet before I knew it. “Here we go again,” I huffed.

Ronan grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the bar, along with a glass tumbler.
Fucking fantastic.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?”

He scoffed and then stared at me while he poured a drink. The morning light reflected a prism of colors off the glass as he held in up in my direction. “Cheers,” he said before slamming it back.

My heart splintered into tiny fragments. I’d thought we’d be having a much different conversation. I didn’t understand why Ronan wasn’t elated upon hearing this news. Instead, he was pissed once again about my ex not paying for his crimes.

My arms folded against my chest. “I was pretty certain we’d settled this matter. I don’t understand why.”

“You don’t understand?” He huffed out a laugh. “
I
don’t understand
why
on Earth you don’t want this guy serving time for what he did to you.”

“You don’t think I want him to pay?” Tears welled in my eyes. My hands balled into fists at the memory of Derek slamming my head against the wall yesterday. “Of course I wanted him to pay! For months after the attack, my thoughts were consumed with revenge. I wanted Derek to suffer and feel the same pain as I had, only a thousand times deeper.” My hands shook as tears slid down my cheeks.

Ronan walked towards me. I took step back, but he’d caught me by the waist. Shaking my head, I shoved him away. I needed him to understand that this issue had to be a dead one, buried beneath a mountain of healing and release.

“He made me a victim, Ronan! And I never…
ever
thought of myself as a victim. I had dreams of killing him, myself.”

He raised his eyebrows a notch.

Confident that he was truly hearing me, I continued. “I
was
fixated on making him suffer for what he’d done. But, once I’d confessed to Dr. Goodwin, he made me realize I was on a very dark path. The more I allowed the hate to occupy my thoughts, it kept me from healing. I was so busy trying not to let rage consume me that fear crept in and I let it stay with me. I’d replaced one emotional reaction with another. Almost like when you try so hard not to end up like your mother that you don’t realize you’ve turned into your father.”

Ronan’s expression softened. He reached for me, pulling me closer. I didn’t fight him this time. Instead, I curled into him. I’d made a promise to myself in Cabo that I would no longer be weak, that I would fight. I intended to do just that. But, if Ronan couldn’t let it go, well…I didn’t want to think about what that might mean for our future.

I buried my face in his chest, taking a deep breath. “
Sometimes
the bad guys win.”

“I don’t accept that.”

“I need you to find a way,” I breathed. “I need your support, Ronan. If you love me—”

“Enough!”

I jumped at the lash of his voice slicing through my words.

“Not another word,” he snapped. “Don’t
ever
use our love against me as leverage.”

That wasn’t what I was trying to do.

My thoughts were ensnared, held hostage by his words. I didn’t know what to think or say. Silence fell around us, and shock rippled through the room like a violent gust of air. He shoved a hand through his hair and walked towards the window. My stomach somersaulted watching him stand by the piano with his back to me.

I pulled at the hem of my top, waiting for him to say something. I counted to twenty, tacking the word
Mississippi
onto each number—still nothing. No longer able to stand the deafening quiet, I walked to the bedroom. Lying down on the bed, I closed my eyes and replayed Ronan’s words.

“
You should marry me.”

Did he realize he’d even said that? The impact of those words tugged at my heart, pulled me in deeper. As I curled into the blankets, tears streamed down my face. I clung to the pillows as if they were a life preserver keeping me from drowning in us.

My head confirmed what my heart knew to be true. Ronan was the ship, and I was going down with the ship.

Ronan

I stood watching the clouds chase the morning sun away. This was turning into a swell romantic weekend. The woman I loved more than anything was lying in the bedroom by herself because I’d hurt her. I’d said horrible things to Holliday. What the fuck was my problem?

She’d asked me to support her, and I’d lashed out. It’d been only yesterday that I’d been sick with worry that Derek had possibly fucked up her healing process. And today, she’d had the courage to tell me that she was no longer scared, no longer lived in fear. I should have been happy about that.

So why wasn’t I?

Selfish reasons.

It all stemmed from the plan I had to bring him down. I wanted to inflict pain on him for what he’d done to Holliday years ago. None of that mattered, and acting like a renegade cowboy or a white knight trying to serve justice was a fucking asinine idea.

Tosser. Douche. Asshole.

Yes, all of those seemed perfectly fitting to describe my behavior towards Holliday.

I peered into the master suite—she was still asleep. I wanted to wake her, take her in my arms, shower her with kisses, and tell her how very sorry I was. Then, with any luck, she’d accept, and I’d keep my promise and salvage this weekend, ending it on a high note with a mind-blowing afternoon of make-up sex.