Page 63 of London Has Fallen
“You coming back from the dead ruined the mood.”
“Ouch, I thought you would be happy to see me.”
“What the fuck would give you that notion?”
“The fact I wasn’t dead when you screamed out that you loved me.” Her face slackens and she slouches back into her chair with a huff.
“Heat of the moment had me all up in my feels, we all say shit we don’t mean.” Her dismissal annoys the fuck out of me.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she bites back in an angry tone.
“Hide.” She balks at me.
“I’m not hiding.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Coming from the guy who avoided me for weeks before that night!” Yeah, I can’t exactly fight her on that one.
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
“By what, being a fucking pussy?”
“How the fuck do you go from saying you love me to calling me a pussy?”
She shrugs. “Easily. I had weeks to get the fuck over you and forget you ever existed.”
That knocks the fucking wind out of my lungs and hurts more than I want to admit. “Right. Well, I guess I will be the one saving your father from your mother’s wrath then,” I say as I grip the handles of the chair and prepare to stand.
“That’s it?” I turn to her and frown.
“You made your point. I fell for you and you said what you did out of guilt. It’s fine, I’ll help your father and then me and my brothers will be out of here.” I grit my teeth and stand grunting in pain as I feel my stitches pull. That pain is better to feel than the other. I thought coming back here she would be excited to see me and for the first time without the trials in our way and my father in the picture that we could give whatever this is between us a real go, but I was fucking delusional. There will never be a future between us after what I did to her, she has every right to hate me but she will never hate me as much as I hate myself. “For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry for what happened.” I ignore the pain exploding in my chest as I walk away from her.
She is a wildfire, the best way to describe her is like warm honey on your tongue, her beauty is as bright as the sun. London Murdoch is someone so unique you will never meet another person like her in your lifetime. She exudes darkness but that isn’t what she was to me, she was a light at the end of a long dark road but I fucked it up.
“You should know by now I never say shit I don’t mean.” I freeze on the spot and force the hope blooming inside me to abate as I slowly turn to face her. She stands there with her hair billowing around her like a curtain. The short hair actually suits her, it enhances the bone structure in her face.
“Don’t play games with me, London, say what the fuck you mean before I walk out and this time I won’t come back.”
The little shit smirks and slowly saunters toward me with the swagger of a wet dream. I stay where I am, forcing her to choose to either come to me or walk away. I made my stand and showed her what I want. Now it’s time for her to stop hiding behind her fear of losing someone else she loves. She keeps a foot of space between us and cranes her head back to look up at me.
“I don’t want to play games with you but you have to know I will kill your father, it isn’t a debate, it’s a fact that it’s going to happen.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I was opposed to him dying. Was me nearly dying to save the lives of my brothers, not indication enough for you to see that I hate him. I want him to rot in fucking hell for what he did to you.” She exhales loudly at the reminder of what happened. “Don’t get me wrong, I know I also have a first class ticket to hell because of what I did to you.”
“What?” she says confused.
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not playing anything, asshole. I don’t understand what the fuck you mean, which is why I said what.”
“What I did to you that night…” I close my eyes and force the shame away so I can get through this. “I will hate myself forever for doing that shit to you, London. It was fucked up and disgusting and it makes me sick knowing that?—”
“You stopped him and everyone else from running a fucking train on me.” I reel back in shock. “I told you to do it, I wanted it to be you because I knew…” she drops her gaze to her feet, “you wouldn’t hurt me and would make sure I was okay.” I reach out and brush my knuckles along her cheek.
“I would never have hurt you,” I say barely above a whisper.