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Carter doesn’t look away, and he doesn’t release my chin. “So help me God, dove, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’m going to turn this whole room inside out.”
More tears spill from my eyes. “Oh, and that’s your solution to everything, is it? Why does it always have to be violence? Why can’t you choose something else?”
Carter releases my chin and takes a step back, a shadow settling over his face. “Is that your issue? You knew who I was when you met me, Isabella.”
“I know that, but things are different now.”
Carter takes another step back, and I see him ball his hands into fists at his side. “So, that’s why you didn’t want to tell me about the baby. You think I’m not good enough.”
My heart sputters. “No, it’s not that at all. I think you’ll make a great dad someday. I just—”
Carter crosses over to me in two strides and pushes his head forward so we lock eyes. “You just what? You thought you could mold me into a different kind of man? Like Rich, perhaps.”
I place two hands on his chest and shove Carter away. “How could you even say that? After everything he’s done to us. He used me and lied to me, and you let him string me along.”
Carter winces and runs a hand over his face. “I admit that I could’ve handled that better, but you were in a really bad place after your dad died, and I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
I cross my arms over my chest and level him with a look, something cold hardening inside my chest. “You didn’t tell me because you don’t know how to be honest. Because you always like keeping a trick or two up your sleeve. How could I possibly forget the man I’m engaged to?”
Carter’s nostrils flare, and one of his eyes twitches. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
I throw the covers off the bed and swing my legs over, ignoring the wave of dizziness that washes over me. “Yes, let’s pretend like we’ve already been doing and like we’re going to keep doing for the rest of our goddamn lives.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’ve had a stressful few days, so I’m not going to say anything—”
“Or what? You’ll bring your belt?” I turn so I’m facing Carter directly. Even from across the room, I can see how much effort he’s exerting to hold himself together, to keep from doing something stupid.
But I know Carter wouldn’t hurt me. Not like that.
Still, a part of me wants to punish him for dragging me into all of this. For pushing me into the deep end and expecting me to figure out how to swim on my own. And another smaller part of me wonders if it’s too late for me to walk away.
Was this Carter’s plan all along to ruin me so I’m just like him?
Carter’s expression darkens. “You and I both know that’s not the kind of man I am, Isabella. The fact that you’re insinuating that is further proof that you aren’t in the right frame of mind.”
I struggle with the needle in my hand, but I can’t rip it away. “That’s where you’re wrong. My thoughts have never been clearer.”
Carter presses his lips together and says nothing.
I stand up, my arm half bent at an odd angle, my other arm hanging limply at my side. “I want to know the real reason why you didn’t tell me about Rich.”
“I told you why.”
I search his face. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Carter’s expression is one of disbelief and shock. “Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think that I wanted to put you and Tristan in the line of fire?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore, Carter.” I run my free hand over my face and try to ignore the ringing in my ears. “But I do know that I’m tired of being lied to. I’m tired of being used and abused and everything else under the sun.”
“Isabella, I—”
I hold a hand up and shake my head. “I really don’t want to hear it, Carter.”
With that, I climb back onto the bed and flip onto my side so I’m not looking at him. Carter comes to stand in front of me, but I squeeze my eyes shut to ignore him. All I can see is Rich, crumpling to the ground in front of me, over and over again. I keep seeing myself patting his pocket for his keys and running away.
