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Well, he was in for a big-ass surprise because I was tired of all of it – the orders, the secrecy, him always being a step ahead. I was on the cusp of losing everything, and I’d be damned if I let him take anything else from me.
“After Beck’s uncle asked me to help you, I began tracking your movements. I also hacked your accounts.”
I stiffened, but managed to stay calm as I said, “Which ones?”
“All of them.”
The way he said it, like it was an everyday thing, had me grinding my teeth together. “Why?”
“Because I needed to know what I was up against. Subjects often withhold information because they think it isn’t of value or they’re too embarrassed to share it. Or they have something to hide…”
“What gives you the right-” I began, but not surprisingly, he cut me off.
“Your life,” he said. “Your life gives me the right, Nathan. Because it means something to someone else, even if you take it for granted.”
“That’s bullshit,” I snapped.
I saw only the slightest narrowing of his eyes, but he didn’t respond to my outburst.
“So you read my emails…”
He nodded.
I shook my head in disbelief. “And all that crap about asking me about them yesterday?” I asked. “Why bother if you knew what they already said?”
“I needed to see if you were going to tell me the truth about them.”
I was surprised by the hurt that lanced through me. I knew it was ridiculous to be upset by something as insignificant as him trusting me, but I was. Maybe if last night hadn’t happened…
I shook myself free of the errant thought. Last night had been about sex and nothing more. I needed to remember that.
“So, you took it upon yourself to email my office? Preston? As me?”
“I’ve seen enough of your email habits to see you’re in regular communication with your assistant and Preston. Which means they would have noticed if you hadn’t checked in. I emailed them that you were sick yesterday while you were sleeping. I told them you’d be in touch via email, but you wouldn’t be answering your phone. Your assistant hopes you feel better soon, by the way.”
His nonchalant attitude ate at my insides, and I found that I no longer cared what he had to say to me. All I felt was numb. I’d let this man do things to me that I’d spent a lifetime avoiding. I’d told him things…
I barely managed to stifle a sob as I climbed to my feet. As I left the room, I had only one thought.
Escape. I just needed to fucking escape.
I began walking, not even caring where my feet were taking me or if Vincent followed.
He didn’t.
My feet bypassed the stairs that led to the second floor and took me right out the front door. I quickened my pace once I got outside and quickly spotted the gate Vincent had mentioned. Once I reached it, the watch unlocked it, as well as the next gate on the second fence. As soon as I reached the driveway that wound through the dense trees, I took the watch off and dropped it on the ground. I didn’t care that I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t care that no one knew where I was. I didn’t care about anything except keeping moving.
Anything to escape the man in the house behind me.
To escape those few moments last night where I’d finally been allowed to be the real me.
Where I hadn’t needed to be the perfect Nathan Wilder anymore.
I’d been Nate. His Nate.
Now…now I had no clue who I was. I didn’t know if I could go back to being the man I’d been. I didn’t know if I even wanted to.
I heard the roar of an engine coming up fast behind me, but I made no effort to escape it since I knew who it was. But it wasn’t Vincent’s car that flew past me and then rolled to a stop a half dozen feet in front of me.
I watched Vincent lean back on the motorcycle after turning it off. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, though I could see one dangling from one of the handles on the bike. I knew nothing about motorcycles, but I suspected whatever model it was, it was designed for one thing and one thing only.
Speed.
And Vincent looked perfectly at home sitting on it.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
Was he fucking kidding?
“No. You said I could leave whenever I wanted.”
“And you can,” he said. “I’m not here to stop you. When we get back, if you still want to leave, I’ll give you a ride wherever you want to go.”
Wherever I wanted to go.
Where the hell was I supposed to go? Back to my old life? Even if by some miracle I could get it back to where it had been before Vincent had stepped through my shattered window, was that even what I wanted?
