Page 47 of Wrong For Me


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Chapter NineteenAlecWhen Marissa slips into the shower, I knock on Oakley’s bedroom door, but as expected, she doesn’t answer.

“Open the door before I bust it down.”

She knows I would, and that’s when panic kicks in because, still, there’s no sound coming from the other side.

I stalk over to my room to grab the knife off the dresser, and I quickly jam it in her door, breaking the lock from the frame.

Her room is fucking empty.

I go to the closet but can’t tell if anything’s missing, so I yank open her first few drawers, and they’re damn near bare.

“Fuck!” I scrub my hands over my head, my knife still in my hand. “Fuck, fuck.”

She’s gone.

I rush back to my room for my phone and call my brother.

He answers on the fourth ring.

“What?”

“Bring her ass home.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Don’t fuck with me, Rowan. I mean it.”

“Hey, Alec? Fuck. You.” I hear him rustling around before he comes back on the line. “You’ve got nerve, asshole.”

“So, she is there.”

“Again, fuck you. Take your whore to Mom’s if you need to be somewhere, or better yet … fucking leave. But, whatever you do, get the hell out of Oakley’s house.”

That’s confirmation enough. She’s there.

I hang up, grab my keys from the nightstand, and head for the door.

Before I reach for the knob, Marissa’s voice questions, “Going after the girl?”

My fingers flex against the metal, and I glance over my shoulder at her. “Not now, Marissa.”

My eyes shift between hers, and she nods slowly before moving back to the room. Then, I’m out the door.

Not sure how I get here, as I was driving blind, but before I know it, I’m pulling in front of Rowan’s place. The second I throw the truck in park, his front door swings open.

Good, he was expecting me.

He storms out as I charge for the entrance, and like I knew he would, he swings. I let him hit me square in the jaw before I dip my shoulders, wrap him up, and drop his ass flat on his back.

He coughs, grabbing his side, as I step over him and rush through the front door.

I scan the kitchen and living room before heading down the hall. The bathroom door is open, so I skip right past it until I’m at Rowan’s bedroom door, which is also open. I step inside.

Long blonde hair is wet and stuck to her neck and shoulders, a stained blue towel wrapped around her body. Missed beads of water trickle down her neck and chest, making my anger boil as my dick grows hard.

She goes to open her mouth but closes it, shaking her head at me before dropping onto the mattress, and it all comes to a head. The weight of the day, the thoughts of last night. The sight she saw and sounds she was forced to hear in her own home.

She cries, her entire body shaking, as helplessness runs through her.

And I can’t fucking move. I’m stuck, locked up hard as stone with no words to ease her in this moment.

This is my fault.

Rowan bursts into the room then, his hand coming to hit against the door, but he, too, freezes where he stands.

My eyes connect with his, and I hate that he knows what she needs like I do.

He moves to his closet, pulling out a blanket, and steps toward her. My hand shoots forward and clamps on to his shoulder, pulling him back. He spins to face me, his eyes narrowing in rage, but neither of us says a word.

He sees it, knows I don’t want him near her, don’t want him touching her, but when another soft sound comes from Oakley, another break in her armor, I squeeze my eyes shut.

My hands on her will only make this moment worse.

When my eyes open again, some of the tension leaves Rowan’s shoulders, and he takes a slow step back before turning to her completely.

I bite my tongue until that familiar metallic taste coats my teeth as I prepare to see his skin touch hers.

When he gently brushes her hair from her face, she takes a deep breath and looks up, giving him a small smile, one I want for myself.

Neither spares me a glance.

I’m the bad guy after all.

He nods, and she lowers herself onto his bed, still in a towel. He lays the blanket over her. She pulls it up to her neck and tucks her face away, closing herself off from the outside world.

I force my feet to exit the room but stop just outside to lean against the wall.

I can’t do this. Can’t go another day with her questioning everything that she’s come to learn about me.

I’ve worked too hard, waited too damn long to allow her to see me, only to lose her overnight.

I planned to delay us. I wanted it to happen at the right time, but putting me under the same roof as Oakley was like dangling a diamond in front of a thief. It was out of my hands at that point.

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