Page 146 of Remy

Then there he is, stealing my breath through the darkness as he climbs from a sleek Aston Martin, his limp slightly noticeable on his walk toward my father’s stairs illuminated by the second-story light.

“Hey,” I call out, suddenly caught up on what to say. How to act.

He keeps walking, not bothering to glance in my direction.

God, it stings.

“Remy.” I raise my voice. “Are you seriously ignoring me?”

I’m making more mistakes. Calling his name out loud. Creating too much noise. But I can’t help it. I need to know what’s going on. Why I suddenly no longer exist.

I run faster, my tiny heels clapping against the cement. I cut him off at the bottom step, blocking his path. “This is bullshit.” I lower my voice. “You don’t get to ignore me after I stapled your ass back together.”

Hard eyes meet mine. “It was my leg—not my ass.”

I balk at his venom, completely caught off-guard. “Don’t be smart with me.”

He releases a frustrated breath, acting as if I’m the most annoying inconvenience he’s ever faced. Like he didn’t touch me in the most intimate of ways. “I never asked you to stitch me up.”

He inflicts the rejection with spectacular ease. It’s top-tier excruciating. But I don’t buy it. Not after all those guttural things he admitted in his penthouse.

Fuck, Ollie. You have no idea what you do to me.

“That’s what you’re running with?” I sidestep when he attempts to maneuver past me. “Well, do you remember what you did ask of me?” I lower my tone to a caustic whisper. “You asked me to tell you how it felt to have your fingers inside me.” He scowls, but I ignore the warning. “You told me to come on your hand, and now you can’t even return my texts?”

“You’re the one who walked out on me when I begged you to stay.”

“Begged? In what world?”

His nostrils flare.

“You didn’t beg for anything, Remy. You demanded I take a driver you trusted after you called me a mistake.”

His jaw tightens. “I didn’t say you were a mistake. What I did to you was.”

I glare. “I’m sorry, there’s no nuance to the situation that makes your comment any less harsh.”

“Then I guess we’re done here.” He grabs my waist, picks me up like I weigh nothing, and dumps me to the side of the steps.

Is he serious?

“Do you know how many times I’ve called you?” I remain in place as he labors up the staircase.

“No,” he states simply. “I blocked your number.”

My jaw unhinges as he continues upward, disappearing inside my father’s apartment as if he didn’t swing me a death blow.

We’re so not done here.

Not even close…I just need to take care of Mr. Armistead before I can get to the bottom of what the hell is going on.

I run back inside the building, cover the decedent, and wheel him into the cooler, then remove the rest of my protective gear, grab my things, and lock up.

I expect to have to wait a while, but as I stalk around the corner of the building Remy is already halfway down the stairs, guiding my father to take cautious steps by his side.

“What’s going on?” I increase my pace.

Remy shoots me a warning glower.

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