Not ’cause she trusts me. We’ve both destroyed those tentative tethers and salted the fucking earth. She might’ve went low, but I went to hell.
I became Marcus.
I placed the company, someone else’s word, a whole fucking organization of people above her. I had the opportunity to choose her, put her first, and I failed.
So no, this isn’t about trust because we no longer have that, thanks to me.
Which makes why she’s telling me about a new drug she created, knowing I could use the info against her, even more confusing. I could come for it and her since this Fairy Dust is technically Cross property because she designed it while working for the family. The safe bet would’ve been to keep me in the dark about what she got going on. But she chose not to. And she chose not to when I had her bound to a chair in a torture chamber.
Why?
“So you’ll understand that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain by walking away from all this shit on that night. Autonomy. An identity. Freedom. And that’s why I went to see Marcus. To let him know I was out, that he wouldn’t get to use and hide me anymore like his dirty little bastard secret. I wanted to see his face when I told him all the shit was on him now. That he would no longer get to prosper and benefit from my knowledge and hard work while pretending I didn’t exist.” For the first time, emotion starts to leak through her icy demeanor. Her soft mouth trembles before she firms it and there’s a sheen in her eyes. Then she closes them, blocking me out. “But.” She swallowshard, then rasps, “I wanted to see if there would be regret. More than anything, I longed to see that. Then I…” She reopens her eyes, and the agony there damn near steals my breath. “I hoped he would ask me to stay. Tell me he needed me for once in both of our lives.”
Her harsh breath bounces off the walls of the chamber, the sound labored, heavy.
The pain in her gaze echoes in my chest, and if I could somehow use the scalpel over on that tray to remove that ache of loneliness and rejection, I would become one of those mu’fuckas offGrey’s Anatomy.
“Anyway, he didn’t answer. And I called his name when I got there, but… Standard operating procedure. He didn’t even bother answering the door when I knocked. Either he was too busy fucking to talk to me, or he sat in that ho pad and just didn’t want to see me. That muthafucka couldn’t even give me the courtesy of goodbye. So I left. But I was too humiliated to go back through the lobby just in case someone saw me go up. They couldn’t have known that I’d been rejectedagainby my father, but I felt the stink of it, the taint all over me. I left by the stairs and out the side entrance.”
“That’s why we didn’t see you leave on the video.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that, baby girl? Why did you hide all of this from me? Why didn’t you come to me?”
She blinks, and though the sheen of moisture glistens in her eyes, so does the glint of steel.
“Because I didn’t want to be seen as a pathetic ass who, after twenty-plus years, is still running after Daddy’s love and approval.” She inhales a deep breath and looks me right in the eye, her gaze unwavering. “And don’t call mebaby girl. You don’t get that privilege anymore. You don’t get the privilege ofmeanymore. Now either get on with killing me or let me the fuck go.”
No.
The denial roars in my head, and it’s all I hear, all I feel. Panicsurges and pulses within me like an electrical current. Pushing past it, I inhale a deep breath and bend to pick up the pliers. Quickly, I snap the zip ties, and she stands, rubbing her wrists.
“You’re not. You’re staying with me.”
“The fuck I am.” She cups her injured hand and mugs me. “You must be high on my good shit if you think I will go anywhere with you.I trusted you.Against everything I knew about you, against all the evidence of who you are, I stilltrusted you. I won’t make that mistake again. And I don’t lay up in the same house as people who I wouldn’t turn my back on. I’m going home. You can try to stop me, but then you’re going to have to finish what you started.”
That panic flares bright and hot again, and I’m ten seconds from being on her, knocking her out and throwing her ass over my shoulder, and not stopping until she’s locked in the bedroom I assigned her.
But it wasn’t her who broke trust.
No, she didn’t tell me about being at Marcus’s apartment building, but I also didn’t go to her after that bullshit Michelle arranged and ask what was up. I had the opportunity to choose her, to trust her, but instead, I let her down, like her father.
From the time Marcus brought Michelle, me, and Kareem home, he chose Michelle over Ember. Every time he turned a blind eye to the abuse, he chose Michelle over Ember. Every time he didn’t acknowledge Ember as his daughter but claimed me as his son, Marcus chose Michelle.
And when I was willing to sacrifice her for a legacy that didn’t mean shit without the one person whose blood made that shit possible, made it legitimate and powerful, I chose Michelle.
I chose myself.
A wild, uncontainable pain howls in my head, slams against my chest. It sends me reeling back and away from her. From the raw, unfiltered truth of my greed, my cowardice. My weakness.
Ember isn’t my weakness. My fear is.
I could’ve trusted her. Trusted what I knew about her, who Iknow her to be. I could’ve believed in what I’d glimpsed in her face, her eyes last night as she rode my dick. Lust and pleasure, yes, but…
Affection.
Acceptance.
