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When the front door bangs, I’m suddenly over-conscious of the awkward silence in the study.
“Hi.” I cringe inwardly at how hoarse my voice sounds.
“Hello, Lina. You look well.”
“Thank you. So do you.”
“Drink?”
I can do with one, but I’m not drinking alcohol. I’d rather just get to the many points I want to tick off my list, starting with, “You didn’t come to see me in hospital.”
He folds his hands together. “I was there.”
“While I was unconscious.”
“I thought it would be easier that way.”
His eyes track my movement as I walk to his desk. “Easier for who?”
“Both of us.”
I don’t take the seat Tony has left, but sit down on the corner of the desk, so close I can touch his arm if I reach out. “There are things I wanted to say to you.”
His demeanor is cold, distant. “Why are you here?”
I drop the envelope in front of him.
He doesn’t as much as glance at it. “You could’ve given it to my messenger.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to say thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving my life. For the house. For my sanity. For giving me freedom.” I swallow down untimely emotions that bubble to the surface. “For Josh.”
“Thanks for speaking out and getting my record cleared. We’re even.”
“You didn’t tell me you were going to Switzerland to kill Dora.”
“I didn’t kill Dora.”
“Not technically.”
“What’s your point?”
“Did you hold a gun to her head so she’d swallow the pills?”
“I gave her a choice. She chose pills.”
“Why did you do it?”
“To avenge you. She deserved nothing less.”
“How did you find Josh?”
“I asked Dalton.”
“Right before you dropped him.”
His nostrils flare. “Yes, right before I sent him to the fate he had planned for you.” There’s a chill to his voice. “Seems fitting, no?”
“Your men are still following me.”
“Are they bothering you?”
“No. I was just wondering why you’d think I still need protection.”
“The world is full of threats, Lina. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Is it going to be a permanent thing?”
“Yes, a permanent thing.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s not the way I see it, but security stays, regardless. The mere fact that you were once connected to me will always make you a potential target.”
“Were?” I bite my lip, imploring him with my eyes.
“You got what you wanted. I thought you’d moved on.”
“You can say that. I’ve been very busy building a new life.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Then there’s nothing left to say.”
I motion at the envelope. “Open it.”
He glares at me, his bitter chocolate eyes hostile. It reminds me of how it was when we first got together. This is worse, because there’s no lust in his regard. There’s no thirst for revenge. There’s nothing. It’s enough to make me want to flee, but I’m not giving up this easily.
“Open it. Please.”
Pursing his lips, he pulls the envelope toward him, but he doesn’t open it. He just stares at the brown paper under his palm. I can’t help but notice the largeness of his hand and the veins that disappear under his sleeve shirt. I remember the feel of those hands on my skin, and I long for it with such intensity my chest hurts. There was a time, not so long ago, when touching Damian was my freedom. His house was my prison, but I had access to his body. Now I am free, and the liberties of intimacy are no longer part of my privileges. It’s a crazy reversed situation, but I know what I want.
After a while, he lifts his eyes to mine. “I suppose I deserve this.”
“What?”
“Revenge.”
He’s referring to the time he made me fuck him for a copy of the evidence, but he’s got the reason I’m doing this wrong.
Finally, he reaches for the letter opener and cuts through the seal. He’s all business-like as he pulls out the white sheets. It’s as if he’s adopted a professional persona to distance himself from me and what he expects to find inside. He looks at the bottom of the first page where my initials are missing, and then flips through the stack, coming to a halt on the last page where only his signature is signed.
There’s genuine confusion on his face when he looks back at me. “What game are you playing? Aren’t you happy with the terms? Do you need more money? What is it you want?”
“You.”
He places the papers on his desk, meticulously square, and pushes them away. “No.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
“It’s not going to happen.”
I have to force the word from my throat. “Why?”
He gets to his feet. “I’ll see you out.”
My voice rises with the anguish that’s slicing through me. “I deserve a reason.”
“Don’t do this, Lina.”
“Is it Josh? Is it because I have a child?” If it’s because he doesn’t want children, we’re definitely over.
“Jesus, no.” He drags a hand over his face. “It’s got nothing to do with Josh.”
