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That has to be enough.
“I am here,” I say slowly, “for my own reasons.”
She huffs softly. “Last night showed me a few of your reasons.” Her eyes flit to my crotch.
“Not that.”
“You didn’t like that?”
“Lindsay,” I groan, running my hand through my hair and trying not to fuck her right up against the wall of her house, under her open window. “I didn’t fall asleep with you in my arms in your bed because I have some ulterior motive!”
Her cheeks go pink.
And I go cold.
“No,” I hiss. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
“Fake it.”
“Fake what?”
“Fake everything last night just so you could convince me you really care about me and maybe there’s hope. Fake it so you could trick me and get your hands on my gun and escape.”
Snake eyes. Lindsay’s looking at me with narrowed slits, reluctant to tell any truths. I can’t blame her, but I do. She’s ruining everything. Whatever half-baked scheme she thinks is going to work may very well destroy my carefully crafted machine that is designed to perform the same function:
Revenge.
“Here.” She tosses a phone at my face, crossing her arms over her chest, her mouth tight. “Read that.”
Come play with us, the text says.
And then another one.
AGAIN
Then three texted pictures. Harry shaking hands with Blaine Maisri at a political event.
The second pic turns me into a tingling body of stone and ice. I skip it. I force myself to look at the third texted picture of Blaine kissy-facing the camera.
“Fuck,” I curse. My eyes dart to meet hers. I hold up the phone, the glowing screen pointed at her. “This is why you ran? This?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“No, Lindsay, that’s the entire damned point. No, I wouldn’t, not if I had a highly trained, highly motivated nine-member security detail assigned to me. No, I fucking wouldn’t run, because I would trust the men whose entire purpose in life is to protect me.”
“BUT YOU DIDN’T!” She explodes like a hand grenade tossed right into the middle of all four chambers of my heart.
“I TOLD YOU WHAT HAPPENED!”
“And they still raped me, Drew,” she says, her voice low and intense. “Nothing you tell me about that night changes the fact that they just turned me into a bucket of flesh holes for their pleasure.”
Flesh holes makes my throat spasm. “Nothing they did to you was about pleasure. It was about control. Power. Evil.”
“That’s exactly why I need to run away.”
Something in her eyes changes the air between us. What happened? What isn’t she telling me?
