Page 35
Story: Climbing Everest
Confusion isn’t the right word for how I feel about Brix’s declaration.
“Why the hell would he kill his own father over me? What possible reason could he have had?”
He blows a breath out through his nostrils, shifts a little in his chair, and he almost looks uncomfortable.Almost. Maybe agitated is a better word.
As I stare at Brix, his top lip curls up in a sneer and his formerly warm brown eyes turn almost black with anger.
“I’m honestly trying to decide whether you’ve become the best fucking actress on the planet or you’re that fucking stupid.”
Oh, this cocksucker.
I tense to lunge forward before remembering there’s a needle jabbing in my skin a hundred times a second. I’m not so much worried about wobbly lines as I am about my skin getting all ripped up.
“You know what, asshole? I’ve really, really tried to be patient with you. With all three of you. I actually fucking missed you guys, and I tried to protect you. In the meantime, you’re being complete fucking dicks, treating me like I’m a stranger, like I kicked your fucking puppy. Is this fun for you? Are you sitting there hard because your boyfriend is hurting me? Because my tits are out?”
I yank the sweater away, making sure to be fully exposed to the room.
“Why not invite everyone in the shop in here? Let them see, too? If you think that’ll humiliate me, think again. I’ve done far worse for far less.”
His chest expands as he inhales deeply. A deep groove has formed between his dark brows, and his tan skin is a little…darker. Like all the blood is rushing to his head before he blows his top.
Whatever. He’s been nothing but pissed since the moment I realized who was in my apartment. He’s treated me like trash from that first second and all I’ve done is try to warn him, to warn all of them that my mere presence is nothing short of a death sentence for all of us.
Actually, they really haven’t given me much of a chance to say shit. Every time I try, someone grabs my throat or cuts me off or finds some way to shut me down.
“B,” I start, lowering my tone and softening my expression the best I can with the anger, fear, and confusion burning so red hot in my veins. “I didn’t run away. I would never run away.”
“You just happened to, what, fall onto the abortion doctor’s gurney?”
“What?” I ask, my brows slamming together. “You think I had an abortion?”
He doesn’t answer, but his brows are pulled together so tightly there’s a shadow over his eyes and a muscle keeps jumping in his jaw. If he clenches his teeth any harder, he’s going to end up cracking a fucking molar.
Inhaling deeply and looking down at Nico, I catch him glance up at me, over at Brix, then back down to my design. If he has a problem with me showcasing my tits to the room, he doesn’t comment.
In fact, I’m not sure he’s even glancing at my nipples, only focusing on the task.
“Do you really want to have this conversation in front of your boyfriend?” I whisper.
Nico pulls the needle back and barks a laugh. “Oh, sugar. Not his boyfriend. Never have been. And, no offense, big guy, but never will be. I’m not really into the whole monogamy thing.”
So they had only been lovers, and I have a feeling the only reason it was brought up was for the shock factor.
Why would I be shocked? I’m not sure there’s much that can rattle me, but I bet I could make both these men blush if they knew the things I’ve done to survive the past few years.
“I didn’t have an abortion, B, and my father thinks I’m dead. The second Kato announces that I’m not only alive and breathing but with you three…”
I leave the rest hanging because he isn’t a stupid man. He knows exactly what kind of man my father is, because Christos Antoniou is –was– practically a carbon copy. Except he gave a shit about Kato because his son was the next in line to take over.
I was nothing more than a pawn, a paycheck, someone my father could use to gain more control or combine forces with an ally.
And when he realized I had not only fraternized with his enemy but was possibly carrying the next heir to the Antoniou empire, I had become disposable.
Brix leans forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he clasps his hands and stares directly into my eyes.
He doesn’t prompt me to speak, doesn’t rush me. In fact, he almost looks as though he’s ready to call bullshit on anything I might say.
Nico pulls away and does something with his gun before setting out various colors. Well, shit. Looks like we’re far fromdone. I’ve been trying to refrain from showing how much it stings, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.
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