Page 87 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

“It’s my father’s.” I was hoping he would say something, but he didn’t; he just kept his distance. I suppose it doesn’t help that it’s in my hands, pointing directly toward his leg.

God, I’m such an idiot.

“I’m sorry.” I put the gun in the purse, holding the sheet against my breasts with my forearm, and placing the bag on the counter. “I stole it,” I admit.

He tilts his head. “You stole it,” he mimics.

I shrug, nervously pushing the hair that cascades on the side of my face behind my ear. “Yes.”

“Why?”

I open my mouth to answer but close it shut. If I tell him the reason I stole the gun, he’s going to look at me differently, and that’s the last thing I want. Or am I afraid to admit it out loud?

“Tell me why you have the gun.”

My lips pinch. “Tell me why you lied to me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

He nods, running his thumb along his jaw. “OK, then. But it stays in that bag.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeats.

I roll my eyes. “You first.”

His chest rises as he breathes in. “Sit down.”

I blink, looking down at the sheet wrapped around me. “Naked?”

His arms cross at his chest. “Would you like to change first?”

“Preferably.”

He moves slowly, picking up the clothes that are still on the floor and passes them to me. I take them, head into the bathroom, and get dressed. Using a wet cloth, I clean the smudged eyeliner as best as possible before heading back into the kitchen, where Alec sits with the gun in his hands.

I walk closer and sit down beside him. I’m still a nervous wreck, but it’s nearly impossible to push through my feelings. “I stole it to protect myself.”

He doesn’t look at me. “From your father?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He shakes his head, placing the gun down on the counter. “Why didn’t you tell me it was him who screwed you over all these years.”

His lips thinned. “I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t.”

With deliberate slowness, he shifts his gaze toward me. “The truth?” I nod nervously. “I didn’t know who you were until Samantha told me.” Anger rushes through me at the sound of her name. “At first, I did want to take you down with me. I knew you were the highlight of his life, and I thought if I…”

“Got close to me, you’d get him back for the damage he’d done to you?”

He shrugs, but the sadness in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “After I got to know you, I didn’t care about revenge. I just wanted you. All of you. I meant what I said on stage.”

I want to cry, but I don’t allow myself to. “And Samantha?”

He sighs, dragging his fingers through his messy hair. “I promise you… we never slept together. When your father pulled me over the very first time, I was with her. We were going to, but he stopped it before we made it past a kiss.”

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