Page 84 of Exodus

Fear cripples me as I stand in the center of my bedroom, waiting. Never did I fear these men before, and never did I ever think they would hurt me.

Nor did I think they would push back over a couple of tires.

Okay, a lot of tires. Every tire in the parking lot.

Tires that will cost them a small fortune to replace. In the grand scheme of things, it was a psycho ex

-girlfriend move. And that spectacle made me look like the guilty one when I’m anything but. But who marks a woman without their consent?

Lunatics in a power struggle. I’m forever branded because of them, because of their selfishness.

I blink and see Dominic standing in the threshold of my bedroom. A gun tucked in his waistband with the tip of a silencer attached to the end of it.

A silencer.

Swallowing, I eye it and take a step back, and he holds his hands up.

“Cee.” He shakes his head as if my reaction is ridiculous. “Come on.”

I’d shown my ass tonight, made myself look unstable. Unreliable. Emotional. A liability.

“I’ll pay for them. All of them. I-I was angry.” I take another step back, and he chuckles incredulously before pulling the gun out of his jeans. I hear the thump of it land on the stairs as he makes his way into the bedroom. “No gun, okay?”

“W-what are you doing here?”

He eyes my suitcases and then brings his silver gaze back to me. I can’t control the shake that overtakes me, nor the panic that starts to rapidly consume me.

“I’ll pay for them, Dom. I swear. I won’t say anything. I’m leaving, see?” I nod toward my suitcases.

“Come on, Cecelia,” he scoffs. “Really?”

“I was angry. But I d-didn’t t-tell anyone.”

“Why are you shaking?”

“I can’t believe anything you say.” I eye my cell phone where it sits on my nightstand, and he shakes his head dubiously.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you fucking do. You know me,” his tone is guttural, full of disappointment, and it throws me.

“Now you care about me? A few hours ago, you looked at me like I meant nothing to you.”

He blows out an exasperated breath. “Well, I’m a bit fucking ripped up at the moment. And you do know me.”

“I don’t know anything. I’m not a loose end, okay? I won’t say anything to anyone. I haven’t told a soul, Dom. I swear.”

“Jesus,” he says, scrubbing his face with his hand, his expression turning sick with worry. “What have we done to you?”

I swallow. “I just want to leave now.” I do my best to control the shake in my voice as a tear spills over. “C-can I please just go home?”

He studies my expression, and nothing but hurt shines in his eyes when he steps toward me, and I flinch.

“Did he tell you to come here?”

This time he’s the one who flinches. “Please tell me you don’t think that of me. I could never hurt you.”

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