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“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d fallen asleep.” I eyed the bottle, which was now empty. “You don’t drink this much at home.”
He sighed as he sat up and got to his feet. He moved down the hallway and into the bedroom.
I followed him then got back into bed.
He stepped back into the hallway, closed the door behind him, and locked it.
I was back on my feet instantly. “What are you doing?” I tried the knob, but it wouldn’t turn. “Fender? Why is the door locked?”
“I’ll unlock it in the morning.”
“That wasn’t my question. Why is the door locked?”
No answer.
“Fender?”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” His footsteps sounded down the hallway.
“I don’t want to sleep alone in here!” My voice turned hysterical, and I pounded on the door. I’d had to sleep alone in my cabin for a long time, and it brought all that stress back. “Please don’t leave me in here…please.”
His footsteps grew louder as he returned. “No one will hurt you. I’m right here.”
“Please just unlock the door…” I banged my fists against the wood again.
Now his voice grew louder, angry. “If you didn’t want this, you shouldn’t have asked me to bring you with me. Fault’s on you.”
“Open the fucking door! I don’t want to talk through a piece of wood.”
The knob turned, and he unlocked it, opening the door quickly and staring down at me with eyes filled with the underworld. He breathed hard, his jaw clenched tightly, like he was pissed off at me the way he’d been with Magnus. “What?”
My eyes welled up with tears. “Please don’t make me sleep in here alone. It brings back so much.”
His anger didn’t wane, not this time. “You insult me. You think I’d ever let something happen to you?”
“It’s not that, okay? I just don’t want to be alone…with my thoughts…my memories.”
Still nothing.
“You’ve slept with me before—”
“That was when I trusted you. I don’t trust you anymore.”
My eyes closed at the comeback. “Mon amour—”
“Nothing you say will change my mind. You’re the only woman I’ve slept with my entire life—and you threw it away.”
“Why are you like this—”
“None of your fucking business.” He slammed the door and locked it. “That’s why.”
Fender was a different man when he was here.
Hostile. Angry. Venomous.
I hardly recognized him.
He was out of the cabin most of the day, so I stayed inside alone. I didn’t get much sleep, during the day or at night, because just being at the camp was so traumatizing. He was the one thing that could make me feel better, but he refused to comfort me. He didn’t give in to my demands, and every night, he locked me in the bedroom.
Thankfully, we were only there for a couple days.
When it was time to leave, I was so relieved to get the hell out of there.
The fact that Raven had to stay just made me feel worse.
I had a choice—she didn’t.
We rode on horseback back to the main road, took his car into Paris, and then pulled up to the palace at dark. The windows of his bedroom were lit because Gilbert had it prepared for Fender’s return. The grounds were maintained. The flowers were in bloom. It was such a beautiful place.
I was so happy to be back I nearly cried.
I could never go back to the camp again.
We entered the palace, were greeted with pleasantries from Gilbert, and then headed upstairs.
Fender went into his bedroom, still in a foul mood.
I didn’t follow him and went to my bedroom. It was prepared for my arrival as well, with fresh flowers everywhere, the bed already turned down for bedtime. There was a hint of floral fragrance in the air, and sometimes I wondered if the housekeepers sprayed a scent in the room when they cleaned to make it smell like that.
I took off the dirty clothes, showered, and then got into bed.
I was so happy to be home. Could finally get some sleep.
I was on my side, the lights off and my eyes closed, drifting off instantly.
Then the bedroom door opened.
My eyelids rose at the sound, seeing Fender approaching the bed in his sweats, like this was every other night.
I sat up in defense, wanting him to leave for the first time ever.
He stilled at my reaction, his eyes narrowing in surprise at my response.
“No.” That was all I said. There was no better way to describe my feelings. Even if he wanted to sleep with me now, I wouldn’t allow it. It was the first time I really wanted to push him away, to get him as far away from me as possible.
He continued to stand there, reading the unspoken words in my stare.
“Leave.”
His eyes narrowed. “I—”
“I said leave.”
He remained still, absorbing the command slowly. He probably had never been spoken to that way in his life, and it took him a while to understand reality. But he stepped away from the bed and walked out without saying a word.
