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“Poor timing, I admit. But things change. I don’t care about the money or the house. They’re yours.”
“I don’t want your guilt money. I want answers.”
“The reasons are my own. You’ll have to accept that.”
“Well, I don’t. I saw Stiles at the club and at my house tonight. That’s not in keeping with the usual low-key security discretion. What’s changed?”
“That’s not your concern either.”
“Screw you.” Her chin lifts in stubborn defiance.
God, I love that spunk, but not right now.
“What happened on Tuesday morning while you were out jogging? Did you get a call…a text…an email? Who contacted you?”
“Jesus, will you stop?” She was getting too damned close. “Just go home, Dee.”
“Not until you talk to me. I know you, Mick. This isn’t you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Maybe part of that is true because you only share pieces of yourself. But what I do know without an ounce of doubt is that you still want me.”
Like an asshole, I drag my eyes up and down her body. “Is that what you came here for? To get fucked?”
“You’re deliberately trying to hurt me.”
“I’m pointing out the reality. I could be inside of you in two seconds flat, but it won’t change the outcome. We did this dance the other night and we’re still in the same place.”
Livid—I can see the flames in her eyes, feel the anger like steam scorching off her. She abruptly pivots on her high-heeled boots. Both relief and dread fill me that she’s going. Only Dee had come here with too much fire and grit for that. She stops at my discarded clothes, picks up my shirt, flicking it out and inspects the stain. “This looks like blood.”
“Goddammit.” I reach her and snatch the garment away.
Her anger turns to alarm. She runs her hands over my chest, my sore ribs. “Where are you hurt?”
The feel of her hands on my bare skin is too much. I grip her wrists, but in doing so, she notices my torn knuckles.
“You were in a fight. That’s someone else’s blood.”
“Enough!”
“Who was here?”
“Christ.” I shake her shoulders. “Leave it alone. I’m not hurt. I wasn’t in a fight. There’s nothing here for you to concern yourself with. Just go.” I release her while I still can.
“I’m not leaving.” She wraps her arms around my waist. Her breath, soft warm puffs on my skin. “Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. But I can’t take the secrets.”
If I tell her, she’ll risk Malcolm. Then what? He’d follow through on this threat. Maybe worse. His wrath is unpredictable. We wouldn’t see its full extent until it blew up in our faces. I hadn’t protected my mother from him. But I sure as hell can protect Dee.Rip the Band-Aid off.
I put my hands on her arms and lift them away from me. “It’s over, Dee. We. Are. Over.”
“After all we’ve been through.” Her eyes go glassy with tears. “You’re just going to throw it away because of some misguided sense of protection? I did that to you, Mick. I took away your choice to decide about me and the baby. We both paid for that. Don’t make my mistakes. Don’t make the decision for me.”
A bullet couldn’t land with deadlier force. But I absorb the explosion in my chest and stick with the plan. Not just ripping off the Band-Aid, Iremove the ring she’d given me and extend it to her, slicing open a new wound and tearing us apart.
“The decision is made, Dee. Don’t come here again.”
The raw pain on her face is excruciating to witness. But I don’t deserve to look away. Dee breaks eye contact first. On a tragic sniffle, she turns, and without taking the ring, walks out of my bedroom. Out of my life.
