45 • What I Can't Lose

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I lifted my head, knowing I must have been hit too hard in the temple because I swore I saw an angel walking towards me

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I lifted my head, knowing I must have been hit too hard in the temple because I swore I saw an angel walking towards me.

A real angel.

Long blonde hair and even longer legs, a black dress showcasing sun freckles on narrow shoulders, and, fuck, the way she was looking at me with kind yet sad eyes—like she could see straight into my soul and still judged me worthy of grace.

She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen—a beam of sunshine dancing over rough water. If I wasn't already on my knees, I would have collapsed on them in supplication, ready to worship her.

"South?"

I tried to smile, but the rag tied around my mouth made it impossible. She was saying my name, and it sounded so good coming from her lips.

Was this heaven?

Everything about the last hour had made me believe I was destined to spend the rest of my life in the grip of darkness. That the long tunnel I'd been walking in was never-ending. That I wasn't good enough or smart enough or strong enough to be allowed back into the light.

But this angel was looking at me like she'd already forgiven me for all the things I'd done wrong. For the people I hadn't saved and the ones I'd let down.

I blinked to clear the haze around my vision and realized this particular angel was my girl.

My Camilla.

Bliss and a desperate longing to hold her bubbled beside the guilt and pain, expanding until my fucking heart was about to burst.

What was she doing here? Camilla was supposed to be far away from this place and my dad.

She was too perfect to be in this den of lies. I wouldn't blame her if she'd disappeared from my life right now, just like the very first night I kissed her under the bleachers. Leaving behind a trail of hazy memories that couldn't possibly belong to me.

She was better off away from all of this.

"South," she said again, sinking onto her knees in front of me. One hand cradled my cheek as tears ran down hers. I struggled to free my hands from the cuffs, wanting to touch her, wanting to wipe away her tears and tell her it would be okay.

I'd make it okay. No matter the cost. Even if it meant she couldn't be with me anymore.

Camilla loosened the knot on the rag tied around my mouth and pulled the dirty cloth away. Then she smoothed back my sweaty hair with a hand. Her satin glove tracing a soothing trail over my skin. Those honey brown eyes of hers studying my face.

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