Page 27 of Never Gonna Lie (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

RAVEN

F our days. Four days , I’ve been lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, and it needs to stop.

I’ve barely eaten, only having the odd sips of water when James would come in and demand that I drink something.

I’ve felt too nauseous to eat anything, running to the bathroom to expel the small amount I’d had after he left.

I would drift in and out of sleep, my mind not allowing me to sleep fully, plaguing me with nightmares of that night. But enough is enough. I’m stronger than this. Plus, if I leave it any longer, James might make good on the threat of sending Mia in to get me, and I can’t deal with her right now.

Shoving off the duvet, I pad into the bathroom, deciding to start the day right and get myself clean after spending days lying in my own filth. I brush my teeth, scrubbing my mouth, embarrassed to admit I haven’t cleaned them once.

Turning on the shower, I decide to snoop around while waiting for the water to warm up. Good idea? Probably not, but I’m in James’s inner sanctum and I want to know more. It’s not every day I spend days in his bed.

Opening cupboard doors, I find nothing exciting, just the usual towels and extra supplies.

I move to the sink and open the drawer under it.

It’s small, only allowing for a few things—razors, cotton ear buds, and…

is that a tampon ? I grab it, pulling it out, and yes, it is, in fact, a tampon still in its wrapper.

Throwing it down like it burnt me, I shove the drawer closed.

Jealousy at why another woman’s hygiene product would be in his drawer eats at me.

In order to distract myself from spiraling, I reach for the hem of my T-shirt and start pulling it off before stepping under the spray and enjoying the feeling of the water soaking my hair and running down my body.

The shower gel and shampoo I find smell of James, and I instantly relax as I slowly massage my body and scalp, enjoying a moment of compassion for myself.

After I’m clean, I step out and grab the nearest towel before I realize I don’t have any clean clothes to change into. Pulling the towel tighter, I walk out of the bathroom and to the bedroom door.

“James,” I call out. “James? You here?”

I hear the pounding of feet against the floor before I see him, his face a mask of concern as he gets to the top of the stairs.

“Raven? Are you okay?” he gasps, out of breath, but stops in his tracks as soon as he sees me in nothing but a towel.

“I, uh, don’t have any clean clothes,” I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“Of course,” he replies. “Let me just go get you something.” He brushes past me gently and walks into the bedroom, heading for the dresser in the corner. He starts rifling around in drawers before walking over to another door and stepping over the threshold .

Awkwardly standing in the room that’s tastefully decorated in a combination of pale greens and cream, I wait for him to return. He comes back a couple of minutes later with a few items of clothing.

Handing me the clothes, he steps back, his eyes soft. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got a few things,” he utters shyly, something I never would have thought to associate with him.

I smile gratefully at him as I shuffle on my feet. “Thank you.”

James looks at me with an intense stare, nothing creepy or leering, something more like… protectiveness? “You had me worried there for a minute, pretty girl,” he breathes as he massages the back of his neck.

I give him a small smile, embarrassed by the last few days, but that doesn’t stop my gaze from roaming over him—his black T-shirt and workout shorts cling to him in the best way, giving me a little something to get my good mood back.

His skin glistens with a light sweat, meaning he must have been in the home gym when I called.

I bite my lip, and goosebumps pebble my skin.

“I’ll let you get dressed.” He nods to the clothes. “I’ll, uh—fuck—” James trips over his feet as he’s walking backwards, not looking where he’s going, as his gaze is firmly attached on me. “I’ll, uh, be downstairs in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

I chuckle softly and nod my head as he retreats, almost running away.

Looking through the clothes he gave me, I see a pair of boxers, a black T-shirt, and a hoodie. Dropping the towel and tugging them on, I find a comb in the bathroom and brush my hair. I use the hair tie from my wrist and put my wet hair in a ponytail, and make my way downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, I notice James isn’t there. Not wanting to look for him, I go to the coffee machine and pour myself a cup. I grab the creamer from the fridge and start rooting around in his cupboards for honey.

“Bottom right-hand cupboard,” I hear from behind me, and I jump, smacking my head on the door.

“Ouch,” I mumble as I rub the sore spot. “Announce yourself next time, please.”

James chuckles as he walks into the kitchen. He’s showered and changed into a different pair of shorts and a white T-shirt. “Sorry, pretty girl, my bad.”

“My bad? Who says that?” I ask as I grab the honey and squeeze in a couple of teaspoons worth. Once done, I turn around, leaning against the counter.

He shrugs, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “All the cool kids.”

“Kill me now,” I mumble under my breath and use my free hand to pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Raven,” James snaps, and I immediately glance up at his harsh tone.

Then it hits me. My eyes go wide as I say, “My bad?”

“Don’t ever talk about you dying in front of me again,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

I can feel the heat of his words from the opposite side of the kitchen, and I know he means them.

“I won’t.” I nod. “It was a bad choice of wording.”

“How are you feeling?” He doesn’t come any closer, just watches me with an intensity I can’t work out.

I shrug. “I’m dealing with it in my own way. Had a meltdown and a good old cry, now I just need to process it.” Taking a sip of my coffee, I continue, “But until I know the hows and whys, I won’t be able to. ”

“Why not?” he asks curiously, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across his chest.

I cup my mug tighter in my hand, not looking at him.

“I’ve always needed to understand how other people’s minds work.

Like, why would someone do that? Why did that guy think it was okay to behave like that?

” I can feel the frustration simmering away, my brain unable to cope with the whys as I shrug and take a sip of my coffee.

“Emma said it’s because I’m empathetic? That I need to understand both sides of the story in order to make up my own mind.

” I peer up at him, his gaze soft as I explain how weird I am.

“It’s both a blessing and a curse,” I laugh.

“It’s great to get other people’s points of view, but a headache when I’m trying to make it all fit in my head. ”

“I think that’s a great quality to have, pretty girl. It shows you care about people,” he says softly.

“But fewer people who care about me.”

“People care, they just… don’t know how to show it.”

“Does that include you, pretty boy?” Hope blooms in my chest, but his quick change in conversation gives me whiplash—a common occurrence with this man, it would seem.

James sighs. “You’re not gonna like what I’m about to tell you, Raven, but in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck.”

My back goes ramrod straight. “Explain.”

“I’ve hired a security detail. Until we know what the hell’s going on, you’ll be monitored twenty-four-seven. And you’re to stay here with me, where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Is that really necessary?” I ask wide-eyed, placing my mug down on the counter.

“Oh, that’s the least of it, Raven. I want you home no later than 11 p.m. when your shift at the Honey Pot finishes, and 9 p.m. on the nights you’re not working,” he states, his tone final .

“You can’t be serious?” I exclaim, throwing my arms in the air. I mean, I don’t have a social life and would only come home after work anyway, but that’s not the point.

He chuckles darkly, but there’s no laughter there as he replies, “Deadly.”

Is it bad to be kinda turned on by this right now?

“Anything else?” I squeak, cursing my wayward thoughts.

“Your phone is to be fully charged and with you at all times. When I call or text you, you will answer within three minutes. If I don’t get a response because you were too busy washing your hair” —I go to interrupt him, but he gives me a look that has me clamping my mouth shut— “there will be consequences.”

I wait for him to continue adding to the long list of things I can and can’t do when he snaps, “Am I understood?”

“Oh, can I talk now?” I sass, putting my hands on my hips. “Or do I need permission?”

“I’m trying to keep you safe, Raven, so less of the fucking attitude,” he growls, pushing away from the counter and standing to his full height. “Or did you forget that someone tried to fucking kill you a few nights ago?”

That stops my attitude straight away. He’s right. I don’t normally do well with people telling me what to do—it’s the inner self critic—but even I can understand the severity of the situation and that I need to play ball.

I sigh and nod, the fight draining from me. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” I agree, wrapping my arms around myself, exhausted. “Do I really need to stay here if I have security, though?”

The thought of being under the same roof as James for an extended amount of time plays havoc with my brain, and the tampon from earlier enters my head. So, in typical me fashion, I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head. “What if you want to bring another woman home?”