That look just killed me. “She didn’t want to be killed in her sleep either. My mother would have wanted a lot of things but didn’t live long enough to want them in the first place. Bad shit happens to good people.” My voice rose in my rage. “It doesn’t make it right, but that’s life. Accept it.”

She shook her head as her eyes watered. “Let it go—”

“Never.” I stepped closer to her, my eyes drilling into her face with anger.

“This isn’t who you are.”

“It’s exactly who I am.” I got in her face, nostrils flaring, arms shaking. “Accept me.”

Tears dripped down her cheeks. “I accept you. I love you. But I don’t accept this part because it’s not who you are. I believe there’s more to you, and the reason I believe that is because I love you so much.” She cried harder in front of me, pleading, tugging on my heartstrings in the way I hated. “I won’t give up on you. I know you’ll let the past go…and do the right thing—”

“Get out.” I wouldn’t listen to this bullshit anymore. I shared my past with her so she could understand, not so she would try to change what was unchangeable. There was no other way—and nothing would stop me.

She continued to cry in front of me.

“Don’t make me ask you again.”

Her clothes were left behind as she fled, the tears loud through the hallway when she left. Her door slammed shut a moment later. Even though it was impossible, I could still hear her cries.

I could hear them haunting me.

Torturing me.

I left the next morning without saying goodbye.

It was an impromptu visit to the camp, but that was how I liked to work.

No one knew when I would move.

And I didn’t want to see Melanie for a few days. I was pissed she’d made that attempt after I’d bared my soul to her, and I was pissed at myself for making my woman cry like that.

I hated her for doing that. For making me hurt her. For making me disappoint her. For making me the villain.

When I was the victim a million times over.

I made the drive with my hand tight on the steering wheel, speeding around the cars that wouldn’t get the fuck out of my way. Music didn’t distract me from my thoughts, and I was hit with a flood of flashbacks.

All of Chérie.

The men were surprised at my arrival, but they had a fresh horse for me to ride across the well-beaten path flattened by wagons and horses. I rode hard and made it to the camp right at dusk.