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The phone rang, and her name appeared.
I ignored it, dragging my fingers over the coarse hair along my jawline.
She didn’t leave a message.
But she called me again. It kept vibrating on the desk with every ring.
Bleu walked into the room. “The car will be here in five minutes.”
All I had to do was give him a look, and that changed our plans.
“Let us know when you’re ready.” He shut the door behind him.
I grabbed the phone and answered. “What?”
“I—I just wanted to know if you’re okay.”
“I told you I was fine.”
“But you clearly aren’t fine.”
Silence. Seething silence.
“You can always talk to me. I want you to know that.”
“Message received.” I hung up on her.
She didn’t call back.
19
LAURA
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I sat at the small dining table as I worked on my laptop, a glass of red wine beside me. My eyes flicked to the entryway and the shadow under the door. It was past eight in the evening, and only one person stopped by unexpectedly whenever he felt like it.
I opened the door and gave him a cold stare.
In his leather jacket, black jeans, and thick boots, he looked like he was born out of darkness. His arms hung at his sides, and he stared at me with eyes so dark they looked like bullets.
My hand remained on the door. “What’s the magic word?”
His eyes were still as they burned into my face. He didn’t seem to breathe, didn’t seem to move at all. Sometimes the only way I knew he was alive was when my hand rested on his chest and felt his heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”
That was easier than I expected. My hand dropped from the door, and I returned to my chair at the dining table.
He shut the door and followed me to the table, taking a seat across from me, a man far too big for my cheap little chairs. His knees were wide apart, and his hands rested together in his lap.
I closed my computer then tucked my legs against my body. I was in little pajama shorts and a cotton sweater that left one shoulder bare. My makeup was long gone because I hadn’t expected my lover to stop by after the way he’d behaved. That was yesterday, and I hadn’t heard from him since.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off me. “You’re still angry.”
“Yep.” I grabbed the wine and took a drink.
“I apologized.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m ready to accept that apology.”
