Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I want to take her into my arms. I want to promise this woman the world. I want to lay her out on one of the beds and get lost in her body, but that doesn’t seem fair. It isn’t until this moment that I allow a hint of regret to settle in my bones for what happened in the tunnel.
Maybe things would be easier for both of us if we hadn't crossed that final line. For me, it's something to hold on to when she's gone. For her, I imagine it's just one more regret she'll have to live with for the rest of her life. Had she not crawled into my lap and sank down onto me, maybe she could have eventually convinced herself that everything she did was against her own will. Hell, maybe even after doing it, she'll get to that point.
My heart clenches, the pain of her forgetting me damn near a tangible thing. I want to wrap my hand around it, squeeze the life out of it, allow myself to believe that I'll be just as unforgettable to her as she is to me.
I turn around to face her, needing to pull the trigger on this conversation sooner rather than later. Raya is looking around the room that pretty little nose of hers scrunched in disgust as she takes it all in. She looks less than impressed, and even though I'm also a little disgusted by the quality of the accommodations, I know I can use it as ammunition.
That prissy attitude of hers, that expectation she'll probably always have, is the perfect trigger.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growl. Her eyes snap to mine, filled with confusion. “Is this place not good enough for you, Your Highness? This is a luxury compared to what we're facing in the near future.”
“Liam, I—”
“I don't want to fucking hear it,” I snap. “Four-star hotels and catered meals are a thing of the fucking past.”
Her eyes narrow as she glares at me and despite the fact that her anger makes me hard, I can't focus on that right now nor ever again.
“I don't mind the room,” she says, pointing to the far wall. “But there are bugs here.” I wish I could say that I've seen enough places while working that a couple of roaches don't bother me, but the thought of them touching me while I'm sleeping makes my skin crawl.
I imagine she would make this assumption about me with how clean I keep my house and my person but mentioning it won't help my goal at this point.
“There may be bugs but that goddamn bed is a fucking luxury. There will be nights we don't have anywhere to sleep but the car. And if the car breaks down, we have nothing. I don't have hidden spots all over the world, Raya. Our resources will eventually run out and I don't have the means to make more with your needy ass tagging along with me.”
This isn't exactly true. I don't have infinite resources, but I have enough money in various bank accounts all over the US and offshore that would last us both a lifetime. If money is all that it took for us to be safe and happy, us being together would be a non-issue. It's the running from her father and every federal agency in the world chasing after us that's the problem.
As hard as it is, I ignore the tears that spring to her eyes. This is killing me, but not pushing her away will kill us both. I would die a thousand deaths in hell before I let the consequences of my mistakes hurt her in any way.
“This isn't gonna work,” I say, turning around so I don't have to face her reaction. Relief in her eyes would hurt me more than anything. “I can't spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder just to keep you around. There isn't a piece of ass on earth worth that headache.”
Silence fills the room, making me turn around to face her again. It isn’t anger or agitation that's keeping her quiet. She's devastated. It makes my heart sing. It lets me know that what we share isn't one-sided, but it doesn't change anything. I don't get to keep her.
“Wipe that look off your face,” I snap, having to swallow down the pain the words bring me. “You don't really care about me.”
“Liam, I—”
“And I don't give a shit about you. It was fun while it lasted, but the fun is over. I'm not interested in playing this game any longer. Keeping you hostage in my house, manipulating you into thinking that I wanted you, was enjoyable, I'm not gonna lie. But you're no longer worth the trouble keeping up that charade would bring.”
Endless tears run down her cheeks, but she doesn't bother to wipe them away. “I see what you're doing,” she sobs. “You're pushing me away because you think it's what's best. It isn't going to work, Liam.”