Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“I apologized for that. I can’t go back in time and erase what happened.”
“No, you can’t. Why did you buy it?”
His forehead wrinkles and he takes a deep breath in then out before answering. “I don’t know, Cristina.”
“How can you not know?”
“Believe it or not, I wasn’t fully on board with what my father did to yours or the way he did it, but I don’t have an answer to your question. When I do, I promise to tell you.”
I don’t know why I believe him, I do though, and it loosens something inside me. Softens it.
But I can’t let that happen. I can’t soften.
I look away from him. I need space. I need to think. To steel myself.
“Did you tell Lucas about the house?” he asks.
“No.”
“Good. Don’t. What did he tell you that turned you against me overnight?”
“Do you really think he did that all by himself?”
“I’m trying to do right by you.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, I am. Now what did my brother tell you?”
“He told me about Annabel. About the accident.”
“I’m sure he painted a pretty picture.”
“He actually said it wasn’t your fault. He said your dad blamed you, but that you loved Annabel and you’d never hurt her.”
This seems to confuse him. It absolutely silences him for a long minute at least.
“Did you think I had hurt Annabel?” he asks appearing genuinely surprised.
I consider this, then look back at him. “No. Never.”
“Well, that’s something we can work with.”
“He said what you want is the foundation, Damian. At any cost.”
He studies me and when he doesn’t even try to deny what I’m saying, that twisting is back. It’s more like a fist in my chest now.
“Does your silence mean it’s true?” I ask.
“It’s complicated.”
“Like us?”
“Yeah, like us.”
I try for a chuckle, but it comes out choked. I need to get out of here and be alone for just a minute. Just long enough to lock these feelings away. Long enough that he won’t see what this is doing to me or how weak I am.
I get up, turning toward the bathroom.
“Sit back down. We’re not done.”
“I’m done. We’re done.” I feel the first sting of tears as I take a step away.
“I said sit back down.”
I don’t. I keep moving. And the instant he’s on his feet, I break into a run. It’s instinct. Fight or flight. I always choose flight.
“I said sit back down,” he says, grabbing my arm.
The instant he does, a sharp pain cuts through me, and I cry out.
We both stop, look at where he’s got hold of me, where I’m trying to pry him off.
“It hurts.”
He loosens his grip but steps closer, pushes the robe off my shoulder and brushes two fingers over the slightly raised skin. He peers closer.
“What is this?” he asks. “The skin’s hot.”
I look at it too, see the little hole the needle left, then try to pull my robe up before he sees it. “It must be a spider bite or something.”
When he presses on it, I suck in a hissing breath.
“We need to get it looked at. It might be infected.”
“It’s fine,” I say, trying to tug my arm free. “It’s nothing. It won’t hurt if you don’t grab me like you did.”
Commotion in the hallway has us both turning to the door, and a second later, there’s a knock.
“Damian,” it’s Tobias.
Damian releases me. I close my robe as he checks his watch, then opens the door.
Tobias glances at me, then at Damian. “We have a location.”
“Give me two minutes.”
Tobias nods, and he’s gone, closing the door behind him.
Damian turns back to me. “We’ll continue this when I’m back.”
“No. I’m done. We’re done. There’s nothing to continue.”
“If you want to sleep in here tonight, that’s fine.” He continues as if I haven’t spoken at all. “But when I get back, you and I will talk. Come tomorrow, you’re in my bed every night. Period.” He walks to the door, hand on the doorknob.
“You demand everything of me and give me nothing.”
He pauses, and I hear him exhale, but then he opens the door.
“At least tell me one thing, Damian. Just one.”
He turns around and raises an eyebrow, hand still on the doorknob
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Be more specific.”
“You never told me that. What is it that I need to give you for you to let me go? Because if your brother is telling the truth, if it’s truly the foundation, then there’s only one way you can get it and let me go at the same time. And I don’t want to believe you’re monster enough to do that.”
He stares back at me and his entire body tenses before my eyes. It’s a bigger reaction than I expect.
That fist in my chest tightens its grip on my heart, squeezing the life out of it.
This betrayal hurts. Hurts like nothing else.