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“Mine.”
Laila gave another heavy-lidded glance toward the camera. “Yours.”
That’s where the video she’d sent him ended. But it wasn’t ending now. There was almost a minute more.
Starting with Laila groping around on the mattress for Ramos’s empty tequila bottle. She lifted it and bonked him over the head.
Trees reared back. He hadn’t seen that coming. Why would Laila try to knock him out if she wanted him to fuck her?
In response, Ramos stiffened, lifted his head, and glared at her, his narrowed stare suddenly vowing retribution.
With a gasp, Laila dropped the phone. All Trees could see was the peeling, water-stained ceiling, but he could hear plenty, starting with the sound of her choking.
“You want to play rough, bitch?” Ramos growled.
The sounds of Laila fighting him, grunting and struggling, her screams suppressed by what Trees suspected were the asshole’s hands around her throat made him beyond furious. She didn’t actually enjoy scum like Ramos damn near choking the life out of her, right?
Seconds later, he heard what sounded like the bottle against someone’s skull again. Then Laila coughed and gasped, audibly dragging air into her starved lungs.
“Cabrón.” Had that noise been her spitting on Ramos? “I hate you. You will never touch me again. Never!”
Her words rang like a solemn promise.
Suddenly, Laila grabbed the phone, looking shaken and angry. The device wobbled in her hands before he got a flash of Ramos unmoving, face down across the mattress, with his pale backside in the air and his boxers haphazardly halfway to his knees.
The video ended there.
Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.
Trees sat back, his thoughts racing. But they all circled back to one conclusion: Laila had been telling the truth in the dungeon. She had altered the clip she’d emailed him to convince him she was Ramos’s willing lover. So he wouldn’t try to save her while he was injured.
He was done questioning her and her loyalties because every betrayal he’d believed had clearly been a lie. She really had been trying to protect him.
And what had he done in return? Accused her of deceit, denied her at least half a dozen orgasms, then left her all alone, aroused and shaking.
Fuck.
Now what?
Trees stood and scrubbed a hand down his face. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say, but he needed to see Laila right now.
* * *
The hissing of the dungeon door’s seal decompressing brought Laila’s head snapping around. She gathered the blanket tighter around her naked body with one hand and wiped the tears from her eyes with the other. Trees had made his feelings clear. He no longer wanted her. He cared for her now only as the body he had been paid to guard. She had hurt him too much, and she understood. Since she had never once had anything remotely like a boyfriend, what did she know of relationships? Of course she had screwed everything up.
Now she had to face his repudiation. He would separate them in all ways except proximity.
Despite the fact Laila knew his rejection was coming, it was crushing her.
Trees’s big feet were surprisingly light on the stairs as he descended. She sipped more of her water as she watched him appear. First, his boots became visible, then his muscled legs, clad in denim. Next, his narrow hips, followed by his lean, corrugated middle, obvious even through his T-shirt.
Laila’s heart began to race. As always, being near him thrilled her, but this time she feared the harsh words he would use to dismiss her.
When she caught sight of his massive shoulders and the dark tip of his close-cropped beard, she lost her nerve to meet his gaze and bowed her head.
In the past, she had stared down drug lords, murderers, and rapists without flinching because she hadn’t cared what they did. They could hurt her body—and had many times. But they had never touched her heart.
With one sentence, Trees could utterly decimate her.
Suddenly, the half of a protein bar she had choked down earlier churned in her stomach, threatening to come back up. Her heart hammered faster, louder, filling her ears when he loped off the last step and crossed the room toward her.
“Laila?” His gruff whisper twisted her heart.
She bit her bottom lip, trying so hard not to cry. She failed, tasting blood and defeat. God, she’d never felt more fragile in her life. “I am sorry. Please do not say anything. I know you despise me now and—”
“Why the hell would you think that?” He hooked his fingers beneath her chin. She resisted, but he forced her face up.
Laila squeezed her eyes shut tighter, but nothing would hide the fact she was crying. “Do not look at me. I know you are angry, and I bear the responsibility for—”
“Shh.” He caressed her face so softly, his thumb brushing over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Listen to me. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t believe you. I didn’t trust you. I tormented you for answers. I was wrong.” He kissed her forehead so softly he made her sob again. “Hey… No more crying. I hate that I hurt you.”
She pressed his words into her heart. “Please do not tell me what you think I want to hear. I do not want your pity.”
Trees cupped her face, his touch beyond gentle…but a hint of his other side, the one that had mercilessly strummed her body less than an hour ago, rang in his words. “I don’t pity you, honey. I’m apologizing to you. Now open your eyes and look at me.”
Laila resisted, but everything about Trees compelled her to comply.
