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I hate you, I thought. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
“Shh,” Pierce hushed.
Did I say that out loud?
Oh, who cares!
He needed to hear it.
Except now he really would think I was a child, throwing a tantrum in the middle of a sex club. Fuck. What is wrong with me?
“I’ve got you,” Pierce said.
What does that even mean?
Cool air whirled around me as we moved.
Gold. Velvety red. Black. The colors all swirled together, the sounds of the club seeming to disappear.
In the next instant, I was surrounded in blissful silence, wrapped up in a minty scent of masculine aftershave. Pierce’s arms resembled bands of steel around me, holding me against him in a way I longed to loathe yet intimately craved.
“You’re safe,” he whispered against my ear. “I have you.”
I wanted to protest, to tell him that wasn’t true at all. He didn’t have me. He barely knew me. All he saw was a little girl who loved to color. And I hadn’t been that girl for many, many years.
His lips ghosted across my forehead, the heat searing my skin and intensifying my focus. He was still holding me. We were on a bed in a luxurious room decorated in modern black and white colors. Silver furnishings finished the look, providing an undertone of opulence.
I swallowed, my heartbeat seeming to slow as I studied my surroundings.
It wasn’t calming. It was just different enough to pull me out of my head. At least until my gaze found Pierce watching me.
I flinched, my desire to flee rising once more and shooting my pulse into overdrive. He’d done something to me. Snapped a fragile part of me. Made me distrust his intentions.
I… I had asked him to teach me. I must have phrased it wrong because he’d responded with a reminder of who I was to him.
Jax’s little sister.
My throat worked, my instinct to squirm away from him taking hold as I tried to escape his touch.
But his arms tightened instead, trapping me against him.
This wasn’t where I wanted to be. Not anymore. Not after he’d essentially rejected me.
I’d seen his interest when I’d asked him to teach me. But then he’d shut me down with four words.
“You’re Jax’s little sister.”
“Let me go,” I said, trying to shove him away from me, my panic swirling out of control again. I’d been so warm. So safe. So… so… content.
And then he’d shifted.
He’d told me to go.
To leave.
A stark rejection.
All because of something I couldn’t change. I would always be—
