Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
She gave a slight jolt when she saw me, like she’d expected me to go in peace.
I stared at her pants for a few seconds. “Those are mine.” They were at least ten sizes too big, so long they had to be rolled at the bottom several times so they wouldn’t drag on the floor. She must have taken them when she left, a souvenir to remember me by.
“All my stuff is in the wash…” She drew closer, her arms latched across her chest. “I want you to go, Cauldron.”
“You do?” I asked. “You were so concerned for my well-being that you involved yourself in this plot, yet you want me to go?”
“Just because I don’t want you to die doesn’t mean I want to be anywhere near you.”
I remained seated.
Her eyes slowly narrowed in annoyance. “Why are you always so stubborn?”
It was impossible to silence the laugh that ripped out of my mouth. “I’m the stubborn one…”
“I asked you to leave, and you won’t. That’s the definition of the word.”
“So what if I’d died tonight? What if Roan had suspected what I was doing and shot me in the stomach? I bled out and died right on the floor?”
She did her best to keep up her angry look, but it was waning.
“I think you’d be pretty upset.”
“Like I said a million times, just because I don’t want you to die—”
“You still love me.”
She went rigid at the accusation, her eyes angry.
“So we’re going to make this work.”
Her eyebrows slowly furrowed like I’d said the wrong thing. “Love was never the problem, Cauldron. You were the problem. That hasn’t changed. Sit in that chair all you want. It’s not going to change who you are. It’s not going to change the fact that you’re incapable of not sabotaging every good thing in your life. I’ve given you plenty of chances, and I won’t give you another, not a single one.” The fire in her eyes was fueled like gasoline had been splashed right on top. Flames soared into the sky. Her cheeks reddened like she’d been burned. So much anger was stuffed into that small body.
I got to my feet and buttoned the front of my suit.
She immediately stiffened.
I drew close, my eyes homing in on hers.
Out of stubbornness, she wouldn’t move.
Fine by me. “I’ve been a nice guy up until this point. But no more.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
I came in closer, our lips almost touching. “I paid for a service. And I expect that service.” My eyes switched back and forth between hers, seeing the way she struggled to process that rage.
“Fuck you—”
My hand gripped her by the neck quicker than she could react. Now she was against the wall, winded by my sudden movements, her hands on my wrist and trying to tug free. It was no use. I didn’t budge.
Her eyes locked on mine, furious but defeated.
I came in close. So close I could smell champagne on her breath. My eyes watched her lips for a moment before I looked at her once more. She was completely still. Not even breathing. “Be ready at eight.”
“Ready for what?”
My fingers squeezed her a little tighter. “Me.”
24
CAMILLE
The only option I had was to run.
Pack up my things and disappear.
But that would only buy me time. Cauldron would find me eventually. He’d make good on his word then.
I was screwed—no pun intended.
At eight o’clock, there was no knock on the door.
The asshole just walked in like he owned the place. He stepped into the living room, wearing black jeans and boots with a long-sleeved shirt that fit nicely across his hard chest. The fabric stretched over his arms and shoulders, and it hung loose around his stomach. His hair was slicked back like he’d just taken a shower before heading over here. That meant he would smell like his body soap, a smell I’d tried so hard to forget. He stared at me with those espresso-colored eyes, just as intense as the day he pointed that gun at me. It was as if we were back in time, full of loathing and lust. “Get your ass upstairs.”
“No.”
He took a step toward me, his body tight with menace.
“You’re going to make me?”
“I’m going to make you do your job.”
“What the hell is wrong with you—”
“You’re the one who walked into that bar and asked for a job. You’re the one who put yourself at the mercy of men like me. You’d fuck a stranger like Bartholomew, so fuck me instead.”
I looked away, so angry because there was no way out of this. This was all my fault. If I’d just taken that job at the art gallery, none of this would be happening. Cauldron wouldn’t have found the loophole that put us back into the exact relationship I had fled.