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I briefly wonder what would happen if I attempted to get out and run, but the hope that he’s about to take me to the one place I really want to go, stops me from trying anything stupid.
The way to get out of this involves me sitting back and making a solid plan, not being spontaneous and running at the first possible chance.
Theo is a conniving, vindictive arsehole, he’s proved that more than once, but I have no doubt that I can beat him.
I just need the right help and the right time.
* * *
It isn’t far into our tense and silent journey that I discover I was right about where he was taking me. But as much as I’d thought I wanted to come, the closer we get, the more my belly flutters with nerves.
He knows, too.
Every few minutes he glances over at me, concern pulling his brows together.
He pulls the car to a stop in the car park and we just sit there, staring up at the building before us.
I’m nervous, damn it.
I’m never nervous.
Sitting a little straighter, I blow out a slow breath as I prepare for whatever is about to greet us.
“Are you okay?” Theo asks, his voice soft as if he actually cares.
“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“I’m not a total cunt, Em. I’m not doing any of this to hurt you.”
My head snaps to the side, my eyes finding his.
There’s an openness, an honesty within them that I’m not used to. I don’t allow myself to believe it’s real, though.
It’s an act. Everything we’ve been through has been an act.
“Come on then. I’m not spending all night sitting out here,” I snap, reaching for the door and pushing it open.
This time when I meet Theo at the front of the car, he doesn’t feel the need to manhandle me, clearly trusting that I actually want to be here more than I want to run from him. But he does make a move that throws me for a loop and makes my head spin in all the wrong ways.
We just step inside the doors when the warmth of his fingers brushes the back of my hand, and only a heartbeat later, they twist with mine. His grip is tight, supportive, and it confuses the fuck out of me.
I stare at his profile as we walk toward the lifts—he’s clearly aware of where he’s going—but he never turns to me despite knowing I’m studying him, and he never utters a word. Well, not until we’re once again enclosed in a small space.
“I’m not the bad guy here, Em. I need you to know that,” he says, his voice soft once more as he backs me into the wall after hitting the button for the floor we want.
“Really?” I ask. “You’re going to try to play that card? You’ve been lying to me for weeks. You called me a liar, and now you’ve locked me in your flat. You held my mum prisoner yet listened to me talk about how much I missed her, how I’d give anything to just hear why she left.”
“I know. Shit, I know all that, Em. But—”
“Ah, saved by the bell,” I sass when the lift dings and the doors open.
Sidestepping him, I walk out of the car first, surprised that he lets me go.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Em,” he says, but I don’t even flinch at the words. Instead, I allow him to think I didn’t hear and continue toward the reception.
“Hi, I’m looking for—”
“Mr. Cirillo, good to see you again.” The woman beams at Theo, who’s caught up with me. He stands right at my back, his large hand wrapping around my hip possessively.
