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“When did you decide you were dictator of my life? Because you’re making a lot of decisions for me that aren’t yours to make.”
“Such as?” I prompted.
“Declaring we’re in some sort of relationship. This whole ridiculous honesty thing. Hell, meeting your mother.”
“You could have said no to the truth pact,” I pointed out, and she growled. I brushed my lips across hers, which only seemed to anger her.
“I’m going back to the shelter. Either you can escort me, or I’ll go alone.” She was a master at behaving like it made fuck-all difference what I did, but the flicker in her eyes warned me it mattered very much.
“What do you have of that asshole’s?”
She tried to recoil, but there was no place to escape. “It doesn’t matter.” I arched a brow, and she blew out a long breath through her nose. “Please don’t make me answer,” she said quietly.
“Sugar . . .”
“Stop calling me that,” she protested, pushing her hips off the wall to nudge me since her hands were otherwise occupied.
“When I say that to you, it’s different than when I’ve called other women that,” I admitted. I’d asked for truth from her. It was only fair I gave her the same.
Her mouth opened and then closed, then opened again, but nothing came out. She closed it again. I kissed the corner of it.
“Let’s go home,” I murmured.
“I’m going—”
“I’ll walk you back.” I didn’t want to hear her rejection again. I released her wrists and backed out of her space.
I strode out of the alley to the street, checking for the two I’d left in a heap on the sidewalk. I’d catered to Sonya more than I ever had to anyone. If she wanted to go back to Paths of Purpose, fine. But she couldn’t expect me to be a gentleman about it. I left her and headed in the direction of the shelter.
She and Sam caught up to me, and she slipped her hand into mine. I glanced down in surprise but kept walking. “It’s a coin, and I think it’s pretty valuable.”
“Think?”
“I researched it on the internet. If it’s real, it’s worth about seven million.”
“I can sort of sympathize with why he punched you.” I kept a smile on my face so she’d know I was teasing. What that bastard had done was unacceptable.
“That’s why I’m not too upset over it.” She smiled back, and everything seemed right in the world.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Unload it,” she said, like I’d asked an absurd question. “As soon as I find a buyer.”
“Shouldn’t there be some paperwork to go along with it?” I hadn’t had a lot of dealings with rarities, but I was pretty certain some sort of authentication was necessary.
Her chin dipped as though she was disappointed I thought so little of her. “Of course there is.”
“Where is the coin?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“That’s where you would be if you came to my apartment.”
“The conversation about that is finished.” Her tone brooked no argument, so I let it go for the moment. I’d just fought for this woman. My hand felt bruised from the beating I’d given. My cheekbone was probably already swelling. I was following a con artist back to her hiding place.
And I thought my life was fucked up before meeting Sonya Hughes.
Chapter Twenty-Four
