Page 22

I didn’t bother trying to play therapist with myself and rationalize my crazy. I was out of my fucking head and perfectly fine with it.

The lobby of the hotel was open and airy. Bright light flooded in from the glass dome roof, and activity bustled all around.

Some people curiously stared. Most continued on with their business. They all wore the black robes I associated with the Savages.

“I’ll catch up with you in a few,” Romero directed to Dhal, steering me towards the elevators. She finger waved at him and walked off, giving me a small smile. It was not returned. Why the hell was she even here?

I stood beside him, not saying a word, not knowing where to start, and still playing my role until he told me otherwise. Even when we stepped inside the four walled box, I said nothing, and neither did he.

My ignoring him didn’t stop him from staring at me, breathing down my neck, and twisting my insides up even more.

Was it wrong that I wanted him to slam my face into the wall and fuck me from behind?

I wanted him whether I was dirty, clean, pissed off, or happy. In sickness and in health, I always wanted him. I should have hated him—but even then, I would want him. I wondered how good a hate-fuck would feel.

When the old metal doors loudly squeaked open, I stepped out into a long, empty hallway and felt like I could breathe again. That was the longest elevator ride of my life. Romero exited behind me. “Come on.”

I walked with him to one of the rooms. He opened the door without a key-card and moved aside so I could go in first. The room was bigger than I expected, with one magnificent single king sized bed, a sofa area, and a bathroom.

I moved farther in when I heard the door shut and a lock click. Taking a small breath, I turned around to face him, making sure there was space between us.

“What the hell was that?” I snapped, referring to the little incident in the lobby.

He laughed softly and closed the gap I’d made.

I frowned when my pulse quickened and crossed my arms. “You think this is funny?” I angled my body away from his, flattening my lips.

All traces of amusement fled his face as he tracked the subtle movement. “I just bought us a little more time.”

“Time for what? And what happened on that bridge?”

“I left you on the bridge so I could have a steak dinner with David and Arlen’s sister.”

I felt my muscles quiver, but I wasn’t aware I’d lunged at him until I was spun around and pushed against the wall.

He didn’t let me utter a single syllable, smothering his hand firmly over my mouth.

“We’re not doing this right now. You’ve had a whole two weeks to let everything build into irrational anger.

“You need to chill the fuck out and get yourself cleaned up before you go on a tirade.” His voice was pure ice.

I hated him right then for knowing me so well.

I shoved his hand away from my mouth and stared back at him with flinty eyes. “We don’t have to do anything. You’re the one with a fuck ton of explaining to do.”

“I don’t have to explain a motherfucking thing. Answers are a privilege, not a right. I just told you I knew what you needed. Now trust me to give it to you.”

“You can’t expect me to trust you after you left me behind.” There wasn’t any spite in my voice, just a dull resignation. He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher.

“I’d never leave you behind. Not when you have this.”

He moved in closer until our noses were practically touching, and placed his hand on my thigh, tracing over the inverted cross he’d branded on me without my consent.

“We made a deal. You belong to me until you take your last breath, even if it’s me who steals it from you.”

He ignited my blood with that one soft caress. My body was a traitorous bitch when it came to him.

“Stop it,” I hissed, knocking his hand away.