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“He’s her fiancé. I’m not saying no to him, Margerie,” Dad snaps.
And there it is. I have no grounds either to say no. Surely, a woman would want to see the man she is going to marry. But I don’t.
I turn my back as tears build up in my eyes.
I want Decker.
AllI want is Decker. I want his arms around me, his lips whispering against my ear, telling me I will be okay and that he will protect me.
I want to make love to him and feel his thickness inside me again, even though it’s only been a few hours. I want to ask him what flavor ice cream he likes, or if he likes the snow or beach better. If he likes Chinese or Thai.
Or Mexican.
Though, it’s unlikely.
I want to know where he will live. What will he do now he is home? Who his family is?
I want to know more about Chloe and hear who he loves.
Does he love me?
I want to forgive him for taking us to Ana and Javier’s and putting me in harm’s way to save all those women who are still there suffering.
God, I’m a selfish bitch.
“I need to shower,” I say, and feel my mom place her hand on my back.
“Dinner is in a few hours. Rest up, sweetheart. We’re glad you’re home.”
“Thanks,” I say, wondering why no one has asked me where I’ve been.So glad you are okay.But they haven’t asked me anything.
Did Connor tell them?
I press my eyes closed, confused and feeling lost despite being home. Then again, what is home? My mind drifts to Mia and Sienna and Duncan, my best friends.
“Mom,” I spin around, catching her as she walks through the door. “I need a phone.”
“Oh, Connor and Mia, had your things dropped off last night. They’re in the wardrobe,” she says, and my brows shoot up to my hairline.
They retrieved our belongings from the Mancini mansion? I close the distance to my walk-in wardrobe and, sure enough, there is my Louis Vuitton suitcase. Sans the bridesmaid dress, which is covered in blood, lying in the trash of the Garcia Cartel mansion.
My phone isn’t there. It was in the pocket of my dress and was lost at some point in all the madness. But my wallet and cards are there, along with my keys and all my other toiletries and clothes.
At least that’s something.
But as I stare down at it all, they feel like they belong to a stranger.
Blowing out a long-held breath, I tug off my T-shirt and turn on the shower. Three jets hit my body as I lean my forehead against the wall. The last time I was in a shower, I lost my virginity.
Decker.
An ugly cry leaves my throat and startles me at how guttural it sounds. I push away from the wall and cover my face with my hands.
Did all of that really happen?
I shiver despite the heat as I feel the memory of his hands on my body, between my legs, and his mouth on mine.
“Decker, oh, God!” I cry, sobbing.
