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On the one hand, it feels good saying what’s weighing on my heart. On the other, the hurt touching his eyes and tugging the corners of his mouth downward makes me feel small. I don’t want to hurt him, no matter how he’s hurt me with his thoughtlessness and possessiveness.
Then, it’s like somebody flipped a switch. His face goes smooth, hard. Those dark eyes of his become icy pools of water. “Very well.”
Reaching for the door, he flips the lock. “Go…for now. Just remember, the time will come when you’ll have no choice but to face reality. No matter how you think you feel or how determined you are to let the world tell you what you should want, there is one thing that will never happen, and that’s me letting you go. I’ll spend forever reminding you of how powerless you are against what’s between us, until you stop fighting it.”
With my fingers around the door handle, I whisper, “Stop trying. You’re wasting your time.”
The last thing I want is to get out of the car and leave him behind, knowing I’ve wounded him. My wounds are even deeper, though. Because I can’t figure out why resisting him is so impossible. And I can’t figure out what kind of person it makes me when I give in again and again.
My head is spinning, and my body trembles from shame and disappointment as I get behind the wheel of my car. He gets out of his car, slips behind the wheel, and pulls out of his space without hesitation.
Leaving me to rest my forehead against the steering wheel and despise myself for making it so easy to break down my defenses.
I can’t let that happen again. Not ever, not for any reason.
Because he might know how to work my body into a frenzy, but he also knows how to break my heart with a single glance, and giving Callum any more power over me would be giving him the bullet to kill me.
CALLUM
“Where the fuck is Romero?” I shout down the hall.
My voice echoes menacingly, but the pair of guards at the other end only shrug their shoulders uselessly before continuing their sweep of the house. He’s disappeared. Everybody has. Leaving without explanation, giving me no chance to stop them before they make their choice to betray me.
I need to stop thinking like this.
This isn’t the same as what I’m dealing with when it comes to Bianca. She walked out on me and was callous enough to turn cold when I went out of my way to show her the truth, even if her stubborn little brain wouldn't allow her to accept it. I’m not giving up, no matter what she says. I don’t care if she thinks we shouldn’t be together. She’ll come around to it, and if she doesn’t, then I’ll make her see it for herself again and again until there is nothing except us in her mind. She’s poisoned my mind and has left me questioning everything I was so sure of only months ago.
I no longer know whether I have control over anything or anyone. I have to wonder if it was all an illusion in the first place. Romero never checked in with me today. I went down to his cottage to personally get his ass out of bed, only to find it empty and his car missing. It's unlike him to vanish without giving me a warning or at least a fucking reason. Add to that the fact that he won't answer his phone—it's turned off, straight to voicemail which is very unlike him—and I'm ready to start ripping heads off and shitting down throats.
Doubt lingers at the edge of my mind. He wouldn't defect. He's never been anything but loyal, and I've had no indication otherwise. Outside of his high opinions, he's the same as always.
That leaves one other alternative. I don't want to entertain it, so I won't let my mind wander too far down the path. However, there is the chance of something happening to him. An accident—or not an accident, something deliberate. The idea of making phone calls and checking with our associates slithers its way to the front of my mind. If I did that, I would look like a hopeless asshole with no control over his men. I can’t do that, but I won’t have a choice if this continues.
I’m sure the shit with Bianca isn’t helping things. Questioning myself, looking at everything through new eyes. She’s fucking with my head.
For the second time today, I stride down the hall and out through the front door rather than sit and stew at my desk. I catch a couple of my guards avoiding me—they don't want to get caught up in my rage, and it's better for them that they don't. With the mood I'm in, things could get ugly. The one person I consistently rely on, and he has to disappear with no explanation.
