Page 49

The room was empty.

The same as my heart.

Chapter Sixteen

Freyja

“Get. Out.”

With Duncan’s hand on my throat, he pushed me back enough to close the bedroom door. I stood there staring at it. Willing him to open it and let me explain.

When I heard the second door slam, I knew he wouldn’t come back. Not while I was still here. My hand reached out to touch the door. Reaching out to Duncan. Reaching out for something that wasn’t mine.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I gathered my coat and purse and walked to the door. Looking back at the room, I remembered the way he held me. The gentle way he stripped me of my defenses, like he stripped me of my clothes. The feel of his lips on my shoulder, the way he punished me for hanging up on him.

It turned out not to be a punishment at all, but the single greatest orgasm of my life. I didn’t want to leave. When he asked me to stay, I wanted to say yes, more than anything. But Lucille’s voice in my head had me blurting out the words that took him from angry to explosive.

My hand went to my throat, and I thought about the measured control he had as he gripped my neck. As I stared into his eyes, hurt replaced his anger, then quickly turned to revulsion.

That was a look I would never forget. The way he looked at me with disgust. Like I was lower than the sewage that flowedunder the city. It was a look I never expected someone to give me. It wasn’t how I wanted him to remember me.

But I had no control over how he felt. Only my actions that caused him to feel that way.

I considered leaving him a note. Explaining why I couldn’t stay. That the‘someone else’wasn’t someone I had met. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t understand. And it would only be an excuse.

And excuses wouldn’t change what happened. They wouldn’t change that my heart had fallen for someone that wasn’t mine. He would never understand why I had to walk away.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I closed the door behind me and made my way to the elevator.

My phone rang as the elevator doors closed. I couldn’t talk to anyone right now, but when I looked down and saw my sister’s name, the tears fell in earnest.

“Freyja, are you ok?” Phoebe asked before I said hello.

“No.”

“What’s wrong? What happened? Do I need to send Shaw to kick someone’s ass?”

I laughed at that. Not because it was funny. Shaw Dalton, my sister’s husband, was a force of nature. Former FBI profiler, former military, and current biker. If I needed help, he would be there.

No, I laughed because it was so Phoebe to think thehelpI needed was physical and not emotional.

“No need to send Priest. This was my own doing. I should have listened to Athena.”

“What happened?”

“I think I fell in love.”

Silence hung between us, and I knew what was coming. Phoebe was a romantic. Her husband left her shortly after they lost their child in a horrific attack, but she never gave up on him.She held onto that love for years until he finally came back to her.

She knew who her soulmate was, and she never wavered.

“Freyja, love doesn’t hurt.”

“You were hurting for years, Phoebe.”

“Shaw hurt me. Not our love.”

“But if you didn’t love him, he wouldn’t have the power to hurt you.”