Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
He’s back to being the old Romero, the one I know and hate. The one with all the walls around him, the one who doesn’t feel anything, who doesn’t care about anything. Like I only imagined what just happened. As if the version of him I saw, kissed, and touched was just as imaginary as my nightmares.
The ache throbbing between my thighs with every heartbeat reminds me of how much I want him. Finally, for the first time in forever, desire instead of fear has me in its grip. The one person who had the power to make me forget my fear doesn’t want me. Not enough to go against what he only thinks is right. I’m not enough. I never have been. It shouldn’t come as a surprise — if anything, it’s my fault for forgetting the way things are.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, folding my arms. “You’re not interested in damaged goods?”
“What?” he almost barks. “You know that’s not —”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” I snarl. “Nobody wants something somebody else broke. I can’t blame you.”
“You know that’s not it. Don’t turn this into something it isn’t.”
“Get out!” I shriek, pointing to the door he left open when he thought he was rescuing me. “Get out! I don’t want to look at you!”
He’s smart enough not to say a word, only turning on his heel and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him. Once he’s gone, my body goes limp. I don’t have the strength to hold myself up anymore, so I fall onto my side and hold a pillow close, desperate for the comfort that was almost mine.
But I don’t deserve that. I’m not worth it.
And for the second time tonight, I end up crying myself to sleep.
CHAPTER 15
ROMERO
The most recent message from my Italian contacts brings a brief smile to my face for the first time today. We’re ready to proceed. Finally, something’s going right. There might be a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. And it means having good news for the boss.
And for her. This needs to end. Now. Last night was a glaring example of why we have to get the hell out of here. It’s why I barely slept after returning to my room. Why I’ve spent the day working my ass off to lay the groundwork for our plans to shut Jeff up for good.
My work has kept me from thinking, too. Brooding over her. Over the disaster I should’ve stopped before it went as far as it did. I don’t know what I was thinking – I wasn’t thinking, is the problem. I should know better. Why do I let her do that to me? I came so close. Dangerously close. I don’t know where I found the strength to push myself away from her, but I owe my life to whatever impulse took over for my weak body.
I know precisely what Callum would do if he knew how easy it is for her to tempt me. I’m so fucking weak for her, it’s pathetic.
This is why I am the way I am. It’s better, easier, for everybody if I keep my shit to myself. Until last night, I believed I had control over this situation, the way I’ve controlled myself all these years. There’s no room to let it go, to lose control. I know all too well what happens when I do. Once, only once, I unleashed myself. I came to the point where there was no hope of holding back anymore.
And where did I end up? In a position where Callum saved my life. If it hadn’t been for him… I don’t even want to think about how my life could’ve turned out. I wouldn’t have been spending weekends camping with the guys or working at some garage. That would’ve been a best-case scenario after years spent in juvenile detention, and only then if everything lined up just right and I was tried as a juvenile.
Here I am, so close to betraying him after everything he’s done for me. Guilt has made me put off the phone call I know I need to make today, but there’s no putting it off any longer now that I know we’re ready to move. The research I’ve done into Jeff and how to get rid of him is one thing, but it doesn’t do much good if we never act.
Now, all I need is the go-ahead. Something tells me I’ll get it.
Considering what almost happened last night, I don’t have a minute to lose.
Now, it’s a matter of sacking up and calling Callum. I’m paranoid as fuck that he’ll somehow know what happened. He’ll hear it in my voice. Of all times for my conscience to decide it wants to wake up and make itself known. I figured it was long gone by now—I sure as hell haven’t heard from it in years.