This scene was especially painful to write, because it brought together both confusing feelings I’ve never really wanted to face, and a kind of self-tormenting wish. It definitely proved that “be careful what you wish for” does not apply to fiction.
Excerpt from VENGEFUL HEART (Underground, Book 5):
Her head jerked up, startled by even that soft query, and the fear and wariness in her eyes punched him hard in the solar plexus. God, how had he managed to screw up the single best thing in his life?
“Tamia, babe, we need to talk.”
She turned her gaze away again, and helpless fear clutched him to know she might just shut him out for good. Torn by the guilt, pain, and love coiled inside him, he started to turn back to the living room. She needed space. He would give her whatever she needed. He would give her the universe.
“I don’t even know you.” Those five quiet words sent a tremor of pain through him, nearly dropping him to his knees. He had to grasp the door jamb it stay upright, until his balance restored itself, and he turned back to find sad, angry mahogany eyes glaring at him. “Who are you?”
“Tamia, please don’t…”
“You lied to me. No. Worse. You killed me.” She rose to her feet, the pain clearly too great for her to stay still. “I gave you my heart and soul, and trusted you to be as good as your word. You promised to never hurt me. You promised you weren’t going anywhere. I believed you.”
He winced, the pain in his chest so intense it robbed him of breath. He’d hurt her in ways he couldn’t soothe away.