Page 14 of Don’t Hate Me (Secrets of Ravens Hollow #2)

I take a slow sip. When I’m done, he offers me his hand to help me back up to standing.

“You need to eat so I can give you your medication,” he says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders so he can help me through the house.

I let him, too weak to fight him anymore. There is also the offer of my pills and that in itself is worth complying for. I heard what the doctor said. I fucking need them.

He leads me into the industrial kitchen.

It’s massive and showy, but there is no sign of staff, even though I know they must be around here someplace.

There is a large pot of something cooking on the stove, it smells like tomato soup, rich and garlicy.

He leaves me leaning against the counter as he moves to the fridge where he takes out a plate filled with little sandwiches cut into triangles, placing it on the counter in front of me. “Eat,” he demands.

I watch him. He looks tense, more so than usual, and I wonder what is going through his head after that conversation with the doctor.

Is he feeling guilty for locking me up without my meds?

Or is it that I’m hurt because of him? I’m not sure if he’s capable of that kind of compassion. But something is worrying him.

I take up a triangle. It looks to be egg salad and smells delicious. I take a bite, the flavor filling my mouth, the kick of mustard a pleasant surprise. I eat the whole thing, then go back for seconds. “Can I have my pills now?” I ask when I’m done.

From his pants pocket, he produces a bottle, his eyes scanning me as he does.

“If anyone else tried the shit you did this morning, begging the doctor to get you out of here, telling him I kidnapped you, they would be dead already. You know that, right? I run my organization on trust, and right now, I can’t trust you, Sloane. ”

“I can’t trust you either, so I guess that makes us even.” My body stiffens. Is he not going to give them to me after all? He holds the bottle, and I stare at it, waiting for him to hand it over. “Why won’t you kill me?”

His eyes lock with mine. “You’re my atonement,” he grumbles like it’s a noose around his neck. Then he hands me the pills and pours me a glass of ice-cold water.

I tip two into my hand and throw them back with the water before he can change his mind, blinking back at him when I’m done. “I don’t understand.”

His head drops, and I can feel the pain he carries around with him. “I should have died when your guard shot me. I shouldn’t still be here.” He touches his chest where the bullet got him. “Fate had other ideas for me.”

“How did you survive?” I whisper, desperate to know. When Onyx and I got out of that room, I thought he was dead for sure. I had nightmares about it for years after, still feeling the weight of his body pressing down on me.

His eyes meet mine, and it’s as if he’s looking right into my soul.

“I was left for dead, bleeding out in the back alleyway of your club. Abandoned by my own family, the family I had sacrificed everything for, including my own brother, to do right by.” He sucks in a labored breath, his shoulders dropping.

“A good Samaritan found me and took me to the hospital. He was a doctor and made sure I got the help necessary to survive. My asshole father left me with nothing, no way of being linked back to him or tying him to the horror show he orchestrated in your family club that night. The police declared me as John Doe.” His eyes meet mine again, and they’re filled with so much pain.

“Don’t you get it, treasure? You gave me a fresh start.

An escape from the dictator that was controlling my life.

You changed my life, and every day since, I have tried to be a better person because I got my second chance. ”

I suck in a breath, pain radiating through my chest for him. For what he also lost that night. How could a father leave his own son for dead? “Why did you kidnap me then?”

“You saved me from my papa, and now I’ll save you from yours.”

My eyes go wide, everything all of a sudden making sense. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly.”

I stare back at him, knowing he really is. He thinks he’s helping me. He’s trying to do the right thing. I got him so wrong. But I know what he was like the night he was after me. I know what his intentions were.

He takes my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Sloane, I’m not exactly a pillar of the community. I’ve built my wealth by quietly rectifying injustices for others, often for a hefty fee.” His lips twist up at the sides when he sees the curious way I’m looking at him.

“You’re, what, a hit man for the rich and famous?”

“Something like that.” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. But clearly it is.

“That’s how you pay for this place? Killing people,” I whisper.

“Bad people,” he grumbles, and I can tell he doesn’t appreciate my judgment.

“Still,” I mutter, not sure what to make of his admission.

I knew he wasn’t one of the good guys, but knowing he makes a living by unaliving people is something else entirely.

“You fucked me up, Orlando. I had nightmares for years because of you. I’m a different person because of what you did to me. ”

His head drops. “I’m not that person anymore, treasure.”

“How do you expect me to believe that? I look at you, I see that tattoo on your chest, and I’m right back in that room fighting for my fucking life.”

His hand comes to my cheek, softly, so tenderly, his gaze locking with mine. “I understand if you can’t move past who I was. But I can promise you this, treasure, I will never do anything to hurt you again. And I will make sure the asshole hunting you down will suffer for ever thinking he could.”

My heart kicks up a beat. I believe him.

I know I shouldn’t, but I have seen it over the last few days.

He’s done everything to keep me safe, even if I have done all I can to test him.

But the fear won’t just disappear. I have spent nine years haunted by that night.

Hating this man; that doesn’t just go away because he says he’s reformed.

No matter how much he lights up my body when he’s this close to me.