Page 58 of Scorned Beauty

He couldn’t have stated more clearly what exactly he thought of me.

You’re nothing but trash.

Those hated words echoed in my head. The ringing in my ears blocked out the sounds of my surroundings. My gut heaved. My chest grew tight. My emotions blurred my vision.

You’re nothing but trash.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

Cruelty I’d never seen before carved itself on Dom’s face.

“Make sure she leaves,” he spoke to the suited security who stopped me earlier.

The man blocked me from getting near Dom. “I’m sorry, lady. Leave or I’ll have to call the cops.”

“I got her,” Phil said behind me.

Dom glanced over his shoulder and saw the fed. He emitted another disgusted scoff and returned his attention to the arriving limo.

“That was hard to watch,” Phil muttered.

But Dom wasn’t done shredding my heart. He opened the door to the luxury vehicle. Even with Phil dragging me away, a compunction to stay became an overwhelming defense mechanism to torture myself to the point of obliterating my feelings for this man.

Like a horror movie unreeling, I watched a tiny woman gowned in an exquisite blue satin dress, plant her golden-heeled dainty feet on the ground. Her hair fell in glorious blonde waves around her.

A suppressed cry hitched in my throat.

“Let’s go, Sloane.” Sympathy dripped from Phil’s words.

The carnage decimating my heart was too enormous to contain, and I emitted a wounded sob.

Dom smiled charmingly at the blonde. He helped her out of the limo, not once looking my way as if I’d already been forgotten.

I didn’t know how I made it back to Phil’s SUV. It was as if my brain had ceased processing information, simply locked in the scene's agony. I only became aware of my surroundings when we reached the tunnel.

“You can’t stay around here while things are hot,” Phil told me.

“My brother is missing,” I said, drained and listless.

He didn’t say anything. The hole in my chest expanded, threatening to become a swirling abyss that was going to pull me under. If I wasn’t already seated, I would have crumpled to the ground.

“Dom has pictures of you and me,” I said woodenly.

“He has men following you.”

“What?” This jolted me out of my zombie-like trance.

Phil glanced at the rearview mirror.

“Are they following us right now?”

“Yes. They’re tracking your phone, and that’s why I confiscated it when we went to the safe house.”

“What the actual fuck? And you didn’t think it was a good idea to inform me?”

“Leave town, Sloane. If anything, Dom still cares for your safety.”

“I don’t need him to care for my safety. I need him to help me find Billy!”