Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
I can practically hear her brain turning, working this out. She’s going to ask the inevitable question – I feel it coming. And she doesn’t keep me waiting. “What about you?”
“Me?” I fill the metal cup with ground espresso and tamp it down, grinding my teeth as I do.
“Don’t you have to get your things together, too?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Why not?”
You know why not. I almost hate her for this. Putting me through this torture. “Because I’m not leaving.”
Because, in the end, we have no business being together.
CHAPTER 30
TATUM
He must be joking. He can’t mean that. Or maybe I heard him wrong.
This is only a dream, right? I’m still in bed, in his arms, and there’s nothing to worry about. Everything’s okay. We’re together. He can’t mean this.
But I’m definitely awake. I feel the satin robe against my skin, the cold floor under my bare feet. I even hear the low hum from the fridge, the sort of sound that fades into the background of your consciousness. Always present, but you don’t notice until the power goes out and everything goes silent.
I wouldn’t hear that if this was a dream.
Hell, I still smell him on me. This is all very real, right down to the nausea churning in my stomach and the sweat beginning to bead at the nape of my neck. “You’re telling me he’s taking me back to the compound today.”
“That’s right.” He goes through the motions of fixing his coffee with his back turned to me. If only there was a way of knowing what he was thinking. No, we’re back to the way it was before, the way it was for so long. He shut me out. His walls are firmly back in place, and I am expected to fall in line without complaint.
“So once again, the two of you have decided what my life will look like.”
“You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
I might as well be in the damn Twilight Zone. How can he go from holding me while I sleep to this cold, careless prick? “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this inconvenient for you? Tough shit. You’re not going to shut me out. Not again. That’s over.”
“I’m glad you think so.” All he does is roll his eyes when he turns away from the espresso maker to open the fridge and pull out a carton of milk. “But in case you forgot, Callum still subsidizes your life. He wants you back. All the bad stuff is over. You can get your life on track now.”
“Why does nobody think to ask what I want my life to be?” It’s an entirely rhetorical question – he’s not going to have an answer, and even if he did, he wouldn’t offer it. That would mean being honest with me, and he’s not good at that. “After everything, how can you stand there and pretend you don’t care?”
“Why do you have to make this so dramatic?”
“Why do you have to be such a coward?”
“Watch it,” he snaps, turning his head to glare at me.
“Fuck you. You don’t tell me how to speak. You tell me how to do anything, not ever again. Not when you can stand there and pretend I don’t mean anything to you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. You’re showing it. You would rather jump whenever my father snaps his fingers than admit there’s something you want.”
“If that’s how you want to see it, be my guest.”
“That’s how it is! He decides he wants me back, and you’re all set to pack me up and send me away. Despite that, you had to get one last screw in first. Right? You had to use me one more time.”
“I wasn’t using you.”
His bare back and shoulders move with every measured breath he takes. I could kill him. I could sink the biggest knife in that block into his back and smile while I did. He can’t do this to me. He won’t. I’m not going to let him.
I don’t have a choice.
I hate the hot, bitter tears welling in my eyes at the thought. I have to have a choice. I must! They can’t make me. I’m not a child.
I can’t believe what I’m thinking. Am I really throwing a hissy fit because I have to go home?
“This is so damn unfair.” I swallow back the emotion clogging my throat. “If you knew this was happening, why couldn’t you tell me? Were you that afraid?”
“I was not afraid,” he grunts. “I didn’t wanna deal with this. Satisfied? I knew you would pull this shit, and I didn’t want to deal with it.”
“Because it’s all about you. Once again, you act like this was all for my sake, but really, all you can think about is yourself. You knew this would hurt me, and I would be confused, and you still chose your comfort.”