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“Where are you taking me, if not the island?” I ask. It’s a stupid question I know he won’t answer.
“Why? Changed your mind? Not willing to go with me? Because it doesn’t matter. If you don’t come willingly, I’ll enjoy dragging you out of here by your hair.”
I don’t want to stay here with these horrible people. I don’t want to run for governor. I don’t want my devastation to be paraded around for political gain. I don’t want to deal with Nolan. I don’t even want Maxwell following me around anymore. I’m done with this life.
“I’m ready to finish this—whatever this is between us.”
“Good.” He removes his hands from my neck. And then I can’t feel or hear or see him at all. His breath goes silent, and due to how dark the room is, I can’t even make out his outline.
He could kill me right here, and I wouldn’t even see it coming. That’s how I’d prefer it. Take me in the night death, without me seeing you hiding in the shadows.
But as the door creaks open, I know that death won’t be coming for me today. I won’t be gone in the darkness without pain. No, I have to keep suffering over and over. I have to carry my agony with me every day. But that’s why I want to end this with Langston. I’m tired of the pain.
We are at the end of the building. It should be easy enough to sneak out. The main problem is the press. If they are waiting for me to exit the building, they’ll see us. I don’t want to be photographed with Langston; it will draw too many questions from Nolan and Maxwell.
I should tell Langston all of this, but then this is what he does for a living. He knows how to sneak out of any building. He knows how to be invisible.
So I don’t say anything as he opens the door and the light shines onto my face once again. It also hits his face, and for a moment, neither of us is sad or mourning our losses. For a moment, the light reflects off the golden specks in his eyes, and he’s the happy boy who once protected me.
My heart clenches, missing that boy so damn much. That’s the worst part of having Langston in my life—knowing how incredible he can be. Knowing how amazing he must be to Phoenix, how he protects her. Knowing that he’s an incredible father to his kids. Langston can be the most protective, caring man, but only to those he chooses worthy. I lost that title a long time ago.
Langston takes my hand roughly in his, but it doesn’t stop the sparks from flying. Why can’t my body hate him as much as I do? That would make this so much easier.
He yanks me hard into the hallway. In the light, his eyes take in my body roughly, and he frowns.
I glare back. I know I look good, so I don’t know why he’s frowning at my appearance.
“Don’t deny that I look fucking hot.”
“I won’t, but your black dress screams widow. You’re too recognizable.”
He’s right.
“What do you suggest?”
He smirks, and then he shoves me hard into the wall. His hands run up and down the curves of my waist and hips.
“If you were going to touch me, you should have done it in the closet, not here where everyone can see us.”
“I’m in charge, not you. And in the closet, I couldn’t see you.”
In the hallway, we’re both illuminated. His eyes covering my body is torture as he now has his hands planted on my hips, no longer exploring my body.
He’s wearing a black leather jacket that he shrugs off and then holds out to me. “Put your arms through.”
I turn around as he helps me put the jacket on, my body tingling as I feel his warmth and smell his husky scent in the jacket. He spins me back to face him as he zips the jacket up, hiding most of my dress. Then he grabs the hem of my dress, and I hear a rip.
“What are you doing?” I breathe.
“Making you uncomfortable.”
I roll my eyes as I realize he’s separating the lace layer from the black material underneath. He rolls the lace of my dress up and ties it around my waist until it’s hidden beneath the jacket.
I smile at him.
He frowns, staring at me.
“What’s wrong now?”
