Page 27 of Betrayed

“You followed me.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“You disappeared. No goodbye. Just gone. What the hell did you think I would do?” He pushes me inside, slamming the door behind us.

The room shrinks in his presence. But the fire burns brighter. Warmer.

“I crossed the fucking ocean.” His chest heaves. “Now tell me why.”

“I couldn’t face you. And I had to come alone.”

He grabs the sides of his head like he might explode. “Couldn’t face me?” he hisses. “Come alone? Do you have any idea how much I’ve worried? How dangerous this is for you?”

I stand there, shook—still trying to believe he’s really here.

His eyes lock on mine. “This,” he waves his hand around the cabin, “Coming out here on your own, it’s a death wish.”

His harsh words cut like a knife. He scowls at my naivety. I try to explain.

“Lucian—”

“No.” He steps forward, one hand raised out to me. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Like I didn’t burn to ashes from the moment I woke up alone until you walked through that damn door.”

He turns, stomping toward the kitchen.

I stay where I stand, shoving my hands in the sleeves of my coat.

He’s pulling pans out of cupboards and slamming them on the stove. I watch him, shoulders hunched over the counter, the soft flickering light from the candles casting shadows that makethe angles of his handsome face look even more desperate and dangerous.

My throat tightens. “I had to do this alone.”

He stills in his anger, long enough to lock eyes. “Bullshit.”

“I had to?—”

He crowds me then, rushing to me, pressing my back against the door. His palms press to the wood on either side of my head.

“You left me, Erin.” His breath is ragged. “My sheets still wet from the last time I was inside you. Every bit of my world still smelled like you.”

My knees threaten to give out. “I didn’t know?—”

He leans in closer. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

He holds me there, pinned under the weight of his words, his fury, his worry.

“I couldn’t face you,” I whisper.

His body stiffens.

“I didn’t want to tell you the truth,” I manage. “Didn’t want to hurt you. Not after you’ve already been hurt.”

By Carlos…

I think of his scars. The pain he must have felt, surrounded by dead men who had trusted him, gone into battle with him. And in a split second, his entire world was turned upside down, then destroyed.

His words are so clear and full of pain in my memory.

Betrayed. I’ve been betrayed.

He makes me meet his eye. “And the truth is?”