Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“It helps me stay calm,” I admitted.
“And the noise? Why do you hate noise so much?”
“It reminds me of the arena. Of the audience. They had their favorites—me, mostly. I fought the hardest. Won them the most money. Eventually, they cheered every time my cage shot open. Each time I landed a punch, broke another kid’s ribs, whatever—they roared out their satisfaction. It felt like the noise would drill into my skull.”
“The scars.” She nodded to herself, as if putting together all my screwed-up pieces. “So, what happened? Who took you back?”
“Senior.” I opened the door to toss the wrappers in the trash then returned. It took no more than thirty seconds, but it provided me with the fresh air I needed. “He came at the end of the school year to check on me. Didn’t like what he saw, to say the least. Flew me back to Potomac, hired two nannies, and warned Monica that if she didn’t pull herself together, he’d divorce her and gain full custody of me.”
Wow—she shaped her mouth around the word, rather than said it. “Seems like he had a glimpse of realization he should do better by his son.”
“More like he realized Monica wouldn’t provide him with any more heirs and wanted to keep the one he had alive.” I snarled. “So, this is why I keep myself well-fed every four hours. Why I chew gum. Why I hate noise. Why I’m quick to fight like it’s an instinct—because it is an instinct. I strive for control. Anything short of complete power is unsatisfactory to me.”
An emotion I couldn’t pinpoint erupted across her features. Something between anger and pride. She leaned over the central console, taking my face between her palms. “You prevailed. Look at you. Gorgeous. Successful. Accomplished.”
“Fucked up,” I completed, my lips chasing hers, demanding to be kissed.
She kissed me slow and steady but kept the passion out of it. When she pulled back, she patted my stomach. “I hereby promise to make sure your tummy is always full. It will be no hardship, trust me. I’m a huge fan of food myself.”
She was trying to make light of it. While I appreciated it, there was no need.
“I’m better now.” I brushed my thumb over her maddening freckles. “Well, mostly.”
“I will be a good momma to our children. I promise. I’ll put them first, always. And to heck with their daddy.”
I believed her. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about Dallas. She had the instincts of a mother. Her child would never go unclothed, hungry, or dirty.
Dallas clutched my shoulders, pressing her forehead to mine, breathing me in. “I know you’ve been hurt beyond words. The people who were supposed to be your protectors—Monica, Senior, Morgan—all failed you. But if one day your heart opens up … I hope I’ll be the one with the key to it.”
I am already indecently in love with you. Only, you can never know.
Her power over me would be so complete, so destructive, if she ever knew the strength of my feelings for her.
Dallas Costa frightened me. She wasn’t Morgan. She didn’t need a key to my heart.
She’d already kicked down the fucking door.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Dallas
The idea of parting with Romeo once we returned to Potomac horrified me. But he had a job. Responsibilities. A life beyond me. And me? I felt like gravity had abandoned me. As if I floated above Earth, struggling to ground myself in my new reality. A reality of childhood arena fights, complicated relationships with food, and justified revenge.
I wanted to hug him. To heal him. But most of all, I wanted to curse myself for judging him. There were no beasts. Only people whose pain was carved on the outside.
Each night, Romeo crawled into our bed and supported my dream. We had sex. Lots of it. Bareback. In the kitchen. The theater room. The sauna. Even at the gym when he’d dragged me there for a spin class with Casey Reynolds—the point of which still evaded me. Why would someone hop on a bike to ride nowhere?
A week after returning from Chapel Falls, I lounged on the living room couch, sifting through wedding pictures with Hettie. This time, I intended to print one with my husband in it. “What about this one?”
“Dude, for the fiftieth time, you both look unreasonably hot in every picture. I think I actually hate you for it.”
“Fine, fine. We can stop. For now.”
“Oh, thank God.” She palmed the television remote and exited the photo casting app. “Let’s put on Friday Night Tykes again. Nothing beats watching grown men get irrationally angry over ten-year-olds chasing a ball.”
Something flashed across the screen before she flipped the channel.
“Wait.” I latched onto Hettie’s arm. “Go back.”
She pressed a button, revealing a breaking news report. A headline rolled across the screen: Licht Holdings stock crashes again.