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“Christina, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Hmm?” Drowsy, I pressed a kiss on his shoulder. He sat up abruptly.
“I may not be able to pay you after tonight. This might be the end.”
“What?” Struggling for consciousness, I sat up too. “What do you mean? Why?”
“Something’s come up.”
“I— you can’t— we can’t just—”
“I haven’t decided yet. I promise I’ll give you an answer either way.” Tension rolled off his body.
“Hey.” I stroked his arm. My stomach was dropping, a sick feeling rising like smoke, but I refused to believe this was it. “It can’t be that bad. Whatever it is— I’ll help you. We can work through it.”
“I’m sorry.” His hand lingered in my tangled hair. “I know you were counting on the money. I want you to have everything you’re hoping for next year.”
Oh, you idiot, Patrick.He thought that’s all I cared about? But even though it made my stomach twist, I really had been counting on that money. We were talking about six hundred dollars.
“It’s okay,” I said brightly.
“No, it’s not. Don’t pretend with me. You know you can’t.” His voice was harsh.
“Then you tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Please.” With a visible effort, he softened his tone and laced his fingers through mine. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what’s going on myself. I need some time. Christina…”
I was powerless when he crooned my name in that deep register. I melted against him and let him ease me under the covers. I pillowed my cheek on his hard chest while he massaged the spot on my neck that always put me to sleep.
Say it, Christina. Say you don’t want his money. You just want him.
He turned out the light. I snuggled closer, and his hand stilled on the back of my neck.
“I just want you,” I whispered.
His breathing told me he was asleep.
*****
Breakfast was quiet. I’m sure whatever Patrick served us on the cookie sheet tray tasted good, but I couldn’t say what it was. His eyes were shadowed, and I wondered how much he’d slept. When I couldn’t stand the quiet anymore, I asked him to put on music. I waited to see if it would be “The Sound of Silence,” but he chose a different album, instrumental, all guitar. No words to fill the space.
It doesn’t matter about the money.The sentence waited on my tongue.I don’t care, I just want to be with you.
But did he feel the same? He could have said so.I’m out of money, Christina, but I can’t stand to lose what we have…No, he hadn’t said anything like that. He’d made it very clear that if the money stopped, so did we.
Whore.Dexter’s sneer filled my head.That’s all you are to him.
I pushed the tray away.
“Had enough?” Patrick’s question startled me.
“I’m not hungry.”
“That’s a first.” He smiled, but it was an effort.
The car ride home was quiet, too. If Patrick noticed me stroking the door so I could memorize it, he didn’t say so. I might never see the inside of this car again, might never be with him again, and all I wanted was to summon a surge of anger that I cared.
I couldn’t.
