“Shut up,” I growl, the alcohol numbing my brain enough to dull some of the pain, but I know what she said. She has no right to say it.

“Michael—”

“What we do with each other has nothing to do with love, Hayden. I gave you my dick. It’s just fucking,” even as I say the words, I regret them. I regret them because it looks like each sentence wounds her.

Her hand flinches within my hold and still, like an asshole, I don’t let go. I want her to hurt. I want her to hurt like I do. I need someone else to feel the pain I feel inside—to know the agony of your soul being destroyed.

“Then why did you promise me more? Why did you even bother making me believe in you?” she asks, her voice quiet—too quiet.

“I didn’t promise anything,” I lie, wanting her to leave. Wanting her to just leave me alone to rot. She jerks her hand hard, but for some reason, I still don’t let go.

“What was that you were saying? How you’d make sure I have nothing but good memories? So many good ones there’s no room for the bad ones? Wasn’t that it, Michael? What was that? Was it all just bullshit?” she cries, and she pulls on her hand again, and when I still don’t loosen my hold she screams at me. “Let me go!”

“What is it you want me to say? That I shouldn’t have said those things? I shouldn’t have! It’s your fault! You look at me with those eyes, you make me want things I shouldn’t want, need things I have no business needing. You make me forget when I shouldn’t! I can’t forget! Damn you, Hayden you make me want to live again!”

“What’s wrong with that? I don’t understand! Why are you so mad at me? What did I do? One minute, we’re discussing dinner and the next minute, you just walk out the door without a word. Why, Michael? What did I do?” she cries again. There are tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, so thick that I can see them, even in the dim light.

“I told you! You made me forget!” I growl at her, jumping off the couch and all but pushing her away. When I make it about three or four steps away, I shake my head to try and ward off the dizzy feeling that overcomes me.

Hayden wobbles on her knees, falling on her side, but catching herself with her hands. Even in my drunken state, guilt hits me.

“Forget what?” she asks, her voice shaking, and I don’t know if it’s from fear of me, or just being upset. Either way, I know I’m to blame and I hate it. It’s one more thing to add to my list of failures.

“Just go home, Hayden,” I tell her, so tired I feel it in my bones.

“Forget what?” she literally screams, rising up to her feet. She slaps the wall and flips the light switch on. The harsh light causes me to squint as my eyes adjust, and as I focus on Hayden, I realize exactly what emotion she’s dealing with—anger and it’s directed all at me.

“Annabelle!” I scream back, tired of thinking, tired of hurting, tired of everything.

“That’s why you’re upset?” she asks, and I close my eyes as a wave of dizziness takes over.

“Yes,” I mutter weakly, and I think I’m swaying on my feet. I feel Hayden’s hands on my stomach and back, and I look to my side and she’s standing there trying to guide me to a seat. I stumble, doing my best to remain on my feet. Finally, I give in and throw myself into the chair.

“How do I make you forget Annabelle? I don’t understand, Michael,” she says, her voice softer. She stands over me, and I look at her and the pain and guilt I feel over Annabelle and for Hayden all collide.

Enough. I’ve simply had enough. How much is one man supposed to withstand?

“Yesterday was my daughter’s birthday, Hayden. Yesterday was her birthday, and instead of remembering her, instead of trying to hold onto her, I didn’t even think about her. Not one thought. Instead, I was losing myself in you, in your body.”

“Your daughter?” she whispers stunned. “Michael—”

“You think you want a life with me, Hayden? You don’t even know me. I’m no better than, Blade.”

“Bullshit, you can never make me believe that, Michael. I…Oh God, honey, I didn’t realize you lost a child, but you can’t stop living. You’re here. You have to live.”

“I don’t. I don’t deserve to live.”

“Of course you do. Annabelle would want you to live,” she says, and in this moment, I could truly despise her.

“Live? What for, Hayden? So I can pretend to be happy? To make a life using you and your daughter to fill up the emptiness that is slowly eating me up inside? Because that’s all I’ve been doing, and I think it’s clear that’s not working.”

“You…You…are you saying you’re using me and Maggie? I won’t believe that, Michael. What we shared together…it’s not a lie. It can’t be. You’re not that kind of man. You wouldn’t do that,” she argues—defending me. It’s time to show her everything.

I shake my head and the room spins. “You think you know so much about me, don’t you, Hayden?”

“I know you’re a good man,” she tells me, and the belief in her words is so strong it resonates in her voice.

It hurts me to hear her faith in me, and I feel the need to lash out. To unleash the darkness so she sees the real me— the Beast.

“A good man?” I scoff. “You’re lying to yourself, Hayden. I dealt in death as a member of the Blaze. I didn’t even blink dealing out our form of justice.”

“Michael, I know enough about the club life to know what goes on. I also know that you’re nothing like Blade and his men. You aren’t evil. You wouldn’t murd—”

I cut her off, not wanting to listen to her defend me any longer. “I killed my own daughter, Hayden. No one else. I’m the reason my daughter isn’t alive. Me. Do you understand now? Do you finally see it? Do you realize the monster you let between your legs? I’m worse than Blade, I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” I tell her, then I lay my head back, close my eyes, and wait for the sound of her footsteps taking her away from me. Footsteps that will leave me alone.

Just like I deserve.