This time when she said his name, it was barely distinguishable and was accompanied by a whimper of pain. He struggled through the haze of the nightmare, confused by Kylie’s actions.
And then, as if he’d been doused by cold water, he roused from sleep.
Horror swept through him with agonizing speed. His hand was wrapped around Kylie’s neck, his fingers digging into her skin. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled helplessly in his grasp. Desperately pulling at the hand around her neck.
Oh God, he was going to be sick.
He released her instantly and she fell away, holding her throat and gasping for breath. She coughed and choked, hunched over, her hair in disarray around her shoulders. She huddled on the very edge of the bed, pulling her legs up to her chest protectively. She rocked back and forth, her broken sobs ripped horrific wounds in his soul. Wounds he might never recover from. How could he?
“Kylie!”
His agonizing cry of her name sounded much like a noise a wounded animal would make.
What had he done? How could he have done something so horrible? He’d become the very monster both their fathers were.
“Kylie, oh my God, are you all right, baby?”
He hovered over her, still shaking from the dream. He was afraid to touch her, but he had to offer her comfort.
He pulled her into his arms, tears wetting his cheeks as he rocked her back and forth.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry.”
Despair settled over him, turning everything to black. Sorrow and regret weighed him down, hammering into his mind.
He’d done the one thing he’d sworn never to do. He’d hurt her.
He was no better than his father. All the things he’d said, all the things he’d never imagined doing to another human being now battered him. The whispers in his mind, the ghosts from his past, taunted him. Mocked him and told him what a hypocrite he was.
He closed his eyes, his thoughts bleak as he realized the magnitude of what he’d done. As he realized the consequences of what he’d done.
Tears blurred his vision. Grief for what he’d lost in the space of a few moments.
He had to let her go.
Kylie was stiff in his arms. She hadn’t made a sound other than the low whimpers of fear. He wondered if she was even capable of speech after he’d nearly choked her to death.
She’d wear bruises tomorrow. Marks that he’d put there.
He would never forgive himself for this.
“I’m okay,” Kylie whispered.
Her hoarse words jerked him to awareness, away from the blackness of his thoughts.
He loosened his hold on her and pulled away, not meeting her gaze. He couldn’t. There was nothing to say, no apology sincere enough for what he’d done. No way for him to make this right.
“I’ll pack your things and then I’ll take you home,” he said gruffly.
Kylie flinched and her head flew up so he could see her wide, frightened eyes. Only now confusion had replaced the fear and uncertainty.
“What?” she whispered.
He winced every time she spoke. She could barely talk in a loud enough tone for him to hear.
“I’m taking you home,” he said, his gaze sliding away from her. He couldn’t sit here and look at what he’d lost. Couldn’t face what he’d done. It was a knife to his heart.
“I don’t understand.”
Her voice trembled and tears crowded her eyes, making them go glossy and wet.
“We can’t be together, Kylie.”
He hadn’t meant the words to come out so forcefully. Or with such heat. But he was dying slowly, with every breath. All his pain came out in those damning words.
“You’re giving up on us?”
The hurt in her voice poured more salt on his exposed wound.
“I love you, Jensen. And you’re just quitting? Just like that?”
“Goddamn it, Kylie. Look at what I did,” he all but roared. “How can you even consider being with a man like me? I could have killed you—I tried to kill you.”
“It was a dream,” she said. “You didn’t mean it.”
Bile rose in his throat. God, she was trying to rationalize his behavior. His thoughts went to the woman he and Kylie had seen in the parking lot the other night. How she’d explained away her husband or boyfriend’s actions. And now Kylie was doing the same thing for him.
He wouldn’t allow it. She deserved better than him.
“Listen to yourself, Kylie,” he said in a cold voice. “Listen to you explain away my abuse. How you rationalize it. Get dressed while I get your stuff together. I’ll take you home tonight.”
“You said you loved me,” Kylie whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “You promised . . .”
“Yeah, what did I promise?” Jensen demanded. “I promised never to hurt you.”
Kylie turned away, presenting her shoulder to him. A shoulder that heaved with her quiet sobs as she began to dress.
It took Jensen half an hour to pack up all of Kylie’s belongings. He shoved them into the trunk of his car and then went back for Kylie, who was now sitting on the sofa in the living room.
Her face was pale, her eyes red and ravaged by tears. Her hair was in disarray, tousled not only from sleep but from what he’d done. His fingerprints shone on her neck, a stark reminder of how close he’d come to killing her.
“Let’s go,” he said shortly.
Kylie rose shakily on her feet. She still wouldn’t look at him, something he was glad for. He had enough regret for both of them.
He got into the driver’s seat as she slid in on the passenger side. The drive to her house was silent, the quiet oppressive and stifling. With every minute that ticked by his sorrow and self-loathing grew until he was certain he would be consumed with it.
He finally pulled into Kylie’s driveway. He got out and headed to his trunk to retrieve all of her things. Stuff she’d brought to his house. Stuff he’d gotten used to being strewn all over his house.
He set everything inside her door, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. When he turned to go back to his car he nearly collided with Kylie. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her and she wrenched herself from his grasp.
With a sigh, he headed toward his car, turning his back on her for good.
“I would have never given up on us like you’re doing,” she called out.