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“I already hacked into her bank accounts. No movement. She didn’t even buy an iced coffee yesterday.”
“And Allison always buys an iced coffee?” I ask.
He chuckles. “My girl is nothing if not a beautiful creature of habit.”
Fuck.
He’s so far gone over her, and I’m afraid at this point, she might just be gone, and it would fucking devastate him. I’m not sure he’d get over it. Hendrick isn’t like me, isn’t like Wells. He’s got some fucked-up demons inside of him, but he’s never been attached to any woman before. Allison is his first.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
CLAIRE
Coleman shifts from the bed,and I crack an eye open to watch him as he tugs his pants on, then reaches for his phone before he walks out of the hotel room and into the hallway. Who could he be talking to tonight?
Who would call him after what’s just happened?
It couldn’t be anyone from his family. They no doubt know that we’re together and wouldn’t disturb us, would they?
I can hear his muffled murmurings but have no idea what he’s saying or who he could be saying them to. Then something ugly slithers into my mind. What if it’s another woman? He hasn’t said anything to me about fidelity, and we’re still essentially strangers, so it could be someone else.
My stomach clenches at the thought. I’m falling for him, even though he’s a murderer, is abad guy, I’m falling. Imagining him touching, kissing, being inside of someone else makes my heart squeeze. At the same time, it makes me nauseous.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I bring the sheet to my chest and stare at the door. I don’t know what I’m going to say when he walks back in, let alone do, but as the seconds tick by, my heart starts slamming against my chest faster and faster.
I want to scream, cry, run. I feel completely out of control and off balance. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this way before. I’m always in control of myself. Even if nothing else around me is under control, I am.
My heart races faster and harder as I imagine what he’s saying. Who he’s talking to. And just when I feel like my heart might actually explode from my chest, the door opens. Coleman stands in front of me, his pants on his hips, shirtless, with all his gorgeous black tattoos on display, and for whatever reason, my entire body relaxes, and my heart softens.
I don’t know why. I still don’t know who he’s been talking to, but just having him near me calms my anxious heart.
“Who were you talking to?” I chance asking.
He arches a brow, clearly not inclined to answer me immediately. Maybe not ever. But I don’t stop. Instead, I ask him again.
“Coleman, who were you talking to in the wee hours of the morning?”
His lips twitch into a smirk, but he still doesn’t speak. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin down and slightly to the side as he watches me. I can’t stop myself from talking, though.
I shouldn’t ask any more questions. He hasn’t even answered the one I’ve asked twice, but my heart is racing, my blood is rushing, and I decide to go there.
“Was it a woman?” I ask.
His brows rise and his head straightens. He watches me for another long moment. It feels like hours, even though I know it’s likely just seconds. Then he takes a step toward me, stopping directly in front of me. Sucking in a breath, I expect him to crouch down in front of me, but he doesn’t.
Coleman stands in front of me, dipping his chin as his eyes find mine and he holds my gaze. Then he speaks.
“I brought women here who I paid for, Claire. I’m not proud of that, but it is what it is. The last relationship I had happened to be with my first cousin, something I didn’t find out about until after I’d been with her for months. In fact, my uncle, her father, was trying to get me to marry her.”
At his words, I gasp and lift my hand to my lips. I can’t believe what he’s telling me. “I had no clue I’d been fucking my own first cousin for months. I didn’t love her. Wouldn’t have married her, but I liked her well enough. Had I not pushed back and refused, we probably would have never found out about the family relationship. Imagine me having children with my first cousin.”
I open my mouth to say something but snap my lips closed because I don’t know what to say. What can you say to something like that? I bite the inside of my cheek in an attempt to keep from saying something stupid. I taste the tang of blood and know that I’ve bitten it too hard.
“So no, I wasn’t speaking with any woman. There are three women in my life—my mother, my future sister-in-law, and you.”
Releasing my cheek, I bring the sheet up a little more and continue to look at him. Staring. Unsure of what to say. He seems upset, and now I feel guilty. But I don’t apologize. I won’t apologize, not for that, not for asking him questions.
He’s my husband, and I know I’m not really supposed to ask him anything at all, but I figure all those rules kind of went out the window the second my parents’ throats were slit in front of me.
