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I’d shown my ass tonight, made myself look unstable. Unreliable. Emotional. A liability.
“I’ll pay for them. All of them. I-I was angry.” I take another step back, and he chuckles incredulously before pulling the gun out of his jeans. I hear the thump of it land on the stairs as he makes his way into the bedroom. “No gun, okay?”
“W-what are you doing here?”
He eyes my suitcases and then brings his silver gaze back to me. I can’t control the shake that overtakes me, nor the panic that starts to rapidly consume me.
“I’ll pay for them, Dom. I swear. I won’t say anything. I’m leaving, see?” I nod toward my suitcases.
“Come on, Cecelia,” he scoffs. “Really?”
“I was angry. But I d-didn’t t-tell anyone.”
“Why are you shaking?”
“I can’t believe anything you say,” I eye my cell phone where it sits on my nightstand, and he shakes his head dubiously.
“I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Yes, you fucking do. You know me,” his tone is guttural, full of disappointment, and it throws me.
“Now you care about me? A few hours ago, you looked at me like I meant nothing to you.”
He blows out an exasperated breath. “Well, I’m a bit fucking ripped up at the moment. And you do know me.”
“I don’t know anything. I’m not a loose end, okay? I won’t say anything to anyone. I haven’t told a soul, Dom. I swear.”
“Jesus,” he says, scrubbing his face with his hand, his expression turning sick with worry. “What have we done to you?”
I swallow. “I just want to leave now.” I do my best to control the shake in my voice as a tear spills over. “C-can I please just go home?”
He studies my expression, and nothing but hurt shines in his eyes when he steps toward me, and I flinch.
“Did he tell you to come here?”
This time he’s the one who flinches. “Please tell me you don’t think that of me. I could never hurt you.”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” I cup my mouth holding in my sob. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“Jesus Christ, I think this hurts more than coming home to find you with him,” he hangs his head before bringing his eyes to mine. “Cecelia. I would never, ever, fucking hurt you. Not for anything or anyone or any r
eason.” He takes a step forward. “Come on, baby, look at me.”
I shake my head.
“Damnit, Cecelia, look at me. Right now.”
I lift my eyes to his.
“See me. It’s me.”
My heart seizes when he takes another step forward, and another and I stop my retreat, his name bursting from my lips in an anguished cry just as he pulls me into his arms. We clutch each other as my fear subsides, and I realize just how far I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole.
“Goddamnit,” he whispers, pulling me tightly to him, his voice riddled with ache, “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Have we twisted things so much?”
I clutch him to me, pressing my face into his neck as he covers me with his hands running them along my back and down my arms. “What have we done to you?” His voice is full of emotion as he pulls me tighter to him, and I inhale his faint but familiar scent.
