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Shrugging, I’m not sure if she can even see me still, but I know she can hear me. “Our father’s can though.”
The last thing I hear as I shut my door is her scream of annoyance.
Chapter Sixteen
BEVERLY
Staring at the wall, I’m doing everything in my power to pretend I’m enjoying my breakfast and not look as if I’m being forced to spend time with Gavino. Despite my constant reassurance, kind remarks, and smiles, Gavino is constantly comparing our new relationship to what I had with Remy. I’d known I’d fucked up by even mentioning Remy that day I’d found out I was moving in here, but I don’t think I’d realized how much it affected Gavino until I was living with him.
It’s been just over a week.
And I’ve only managed to keep my pregnancy a secret by the skin of my teeth. I have a room to myself, but every night there’s a pressure I can feel crushing my shoulders when Gavino walks me to bed. I know he wants more intimacy in our relationship, and I know I should give more than the brief touches and cheek kisses I’ve provided, butI’m scared. The Gavino I know now isn’t the same one I thought I knew before.
Part of me, the foolish and hopeful part, was expecting Remy to barge in to save me within the first two days of being here. Logically, I knew that wouldn’t happen, but it didn’t make the disappointment any less. He asked me not to give up on us—and I haven’t. I know he will eventually get me out of here.
I just pray it’s sooner than later.
Gavino doesn’t trust me as much as he pretends to because he’s diligent about locking up his phone when he leaves, and he’s gone out of his way to take mine. I don’t know what he fears I’ll do, I willingly came into his home just as was agreed upon. I’ve done everything he’s asked of me, spent every waking moment with him when he has been home. When I step foot outside, I’m greeted by his men. No one, including Gavino, has said I can’t leave the property, but it’s a nonverbal command. It’s obvious by the way I’m constantly watched, in the way I can’t even take a walk around the property without being tailed by a made man.
The only time I get to myself is when I’m in my bedroom—and I can’t even spend too much time in there without Gavino searching for me. My only solace at this point is Dylan, who thankfully Gavino hasn’t forced me to get rid of even though Dylan can’t stand him.
That just about makes two of us at this point.
Gavino’s palm is currently hot on my knee as he reads from a folder at the dining table, his thumb stroking back and forth as I aimlessly stroke Dylan’s head on my other side. It’s taken some time, but I finally got Dylan to stop growling at Gavino whenever he stood too near to me.I think I preferred it when he did.Rain is pelting the windows outside as I stare out, my tea mug cooling on the table as it sits undrunk. A soft kick flutters in my tummy and I resist the urge to place my hand there, my eyes flicking from the window to Gavino as he reads.
I started feeling the little kicks just after I moved in here. I wish I could share them with Remy, or really,anyone. But I get to experience them alone—It’s something I find myself quite bitter about even if it’s a situation I brought upon myself. I’m supposed to have a sonogram in a few weeks to find out the gender of my baby and the thought makes me anxious. How will I get out of this house to do that If I’m basically on lock down? I barely managed to sneak my prenatal vitamins into the house, having to beg Gavino to let me go through my things that he’d deemed as “donateable,” which included all of my recipe books.
Apparently, I didn’t need them anymore because he had a personal chef. Just as Ididn’t needmost of my things because he could provide everything I would need from here on out. It was a subject I let go instead of arguing about. I had far more important things to worry about than not having my things.
“You didn’t eat much at dinner tonight.” Gavino’s voice shakes me from my thoughts, my gaze clashing with his. “You didn’t like it?”
Shaking my head, I raise my hand from Dylan, wrapping my fingers around the cold tea cup. “No, it was good. I just wasn’t very hungry.” Taking a sip of my tea, I sigh, placing it back down. “I’m actually tired, though. I think I’ll head to my room.”
“About that.” Gavino says, catching my hand as I stand. “I was thinking we could share a bed tonight.”
My pulse races at the suggestion, my heart thumping so loudly beneath my rib cage that I’m sure he can hear it. “You want to sleep with me?” The question barely comes out above a whisper, fear clenching my throat as I scramble to come up with a reason why we can’t.
His brow dips, his hand leaving my skin to stack his papers neatly on the table before carefully placing them into the folder. He looks up after everything is nice and tidy. “You don’t want to.”
It’s not a question, but a statement. One that I can feel pushing us into dangerous territory.
“I didn’t say that, Gavino.” Swallowing, I watch as he rises from his chair. “I merely asked a question.”
“It’s been a week, Beverly. I think I’ve been patient with you as you got acclimated to being here, haven’t I?”
My eyes find his as he looms over me, one of my hands falling behind me to steady Dylan, who’s gone stiff near my legs. “I never said you weren’t.”
His hand snaps up to pinch my cheeks between his fingers, bringing me closer to him as if to kiss me, but all sweetness is gone from his touch. Dylan barks at my side and his eyes narrow. “Call your dog off, Beverly. I have half a mind to get rid of the damn thing. I can’t even touch you without him barking half the time.”
Swallowing, I fight for composure. “Out, Dylan.” Reluctantly, the pup moves from me, his nails lightly tapping along the kitchen tile as he makes his way slowly from the room. I hear his dog door squeak open, flapping shut as he disappears outside. “He responds to your aggression. It’s what he was trained to do.”
Gavino’s scoff hits my face, blowing the bits of hair from my forehead. “I’m not aggressive with you.” His fingers pinch harder, and I blink at the pressure. “I could be. Is that what you want?”
He takes my silence as an answer, releasing my cheeks but moving closer, so that my chest presses against his. I move to step back, worried about my belly, but he stops me, gripping my upper arms hard. “Is that what you liked about my brother? You liked that he took what he wanted from you?”
My hands push against him, trying to break his hold. “What? No. Gavino, stop.”
One of his hands has found my hair, jerking my face up toward his as his lips press to mine, hot and unwanted. My face turns, fighting his kiss. “Gavino!” I shove back hard, pushing him away from me. “Stop it! What is wrong with you?”
