AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Does it?" She sounds tired.
But the exhaustion sounds bone-deep.
I look down at her. "How're you feeling?"
"Everything feels raw," she replies bluntly. "My lower body hurts."
"Sorry about that." I drag over one of the patio chairs.
"Not your fault," she says quietly, still not looking at me. "I pushed you into this. I did the one thing Jonathon wanted me to––"
"No," I cut her off. "What goes on between us has nothing to do with Jonathon. You're my fated mate. Jonathon has just given us an opportunity to be close to one another."
"Is that a fact?" Cynthia sounds lost, and it frightens me.
A heavy silence falls between us as I try to figure out what to say next.
"You should have let me kill him," Cynthia suddenly says, her voice harsh.
"I stabbed him in the stomach for you, if it helps," I offer, knowing she's talking about Norman.
"I would have disemboweled him."
I raise a brow at the vicious nature of her comment.
"Maybe next time."
Cynthia stews on her words and then says, tightly, "I'm supposed to drop everything and go to Jonathan when he calls me. Norman knows that. Now that your father has forbidden us from interacting, he's just trying to find ways to get me to see him. I don't know why I'm surprised that he drugged me. He's been demanding sexual favors from me for years."
My lips press into a thin line as a surge of jealousy overtakes me. "How long has this been going on?"
She shoots me an angry look, "Years, like I just said. The only reason he's not managed to corner me is because your father is firmly against it. This is the first time Norman has gone out of his way to drug me."
It's hard to push aside my burning jealousy, but it helps knowing Cynthia loathes my younger brother.
"Despite all of this," I look at her, "after everything you have been put through, why are you still loyal to my father?"
When Cynthia looks at me, her eyes hold an agony I can't explain. It tears at me when I see the helplessness and the fury in them. Her words are soft and slow. "I can't tell you."
She stumbles to her feet, each word carefully spoken, an ache buried in each one. "I've never had anybody on my side. I've never had anybody who has tried to protect me. You say all the right things, Adam. And you do all the right things to make me lean towards you. But the fact is, you could turn around one day and stab me in the back. I'm going to keep waiting for that day because I don't know how to trust people. Not anymore. I don't even know if that word exists in my vocabulary."
I immediately get to my feet. "We are––"
"I know we're fated mates. I get it." Cynthia steps back from me, her arms wrapped around her middle, a miserable look in her eyes. "You're probably kind to me because of this bond between us. You don't see me. You see the fated mate. Nobody sees me. And…" Her breathing is shallow. "The fact is, all that aside, because you have been so kind to me since you met me, I don't want to hurt you." She looks up to meet my gaze, her voice heavy. "Jonathon wouldn't have sent me to you without a reason. I am the most dangerous person in your life right now, Adam. The closer you pull me, the more dangerous I become. I cannot be loyal to anyone but Jonathon."
Her lashes are wet with tears. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you why, but I have no choice. It would be better for you to hate me. I know you can choose another mate. Do that. You will never be able to give me the mating mark. The day you do, your fate is sealed."
She steps away from me as I watch her, my body heavy.
I want to stop her, but the sight of her tears makes me feel weak.
This woman has become my weakness.
As she leaves the balcony, I don't go after her, my feet frozen. A few minutes later, I hear the front door of my apartment shut.
I knew Cynthia would become a dangerous weakness, but I never imagined it would be because she was able to make my heart ache because of her tears. I don't know when I finally move, but I head back inside.
The bed is tangled and I can still smell Cynthia on it. Sitting down heavily onto it, I pick up my wallet and take out a carefully folded hundred-dollar bill. I study it for a long while, the gears in my head working.
