Page 25 of Bought and Broken

I glare for far too long, not sure why he wants to sit beside me when he has this whole house to be in. Don’t have a clue why he made me breakfast or got me coffee, either.

“Eat,” he says between bites. I watch him for a moment longer, not understanding what is happening here.

Why is he being nice? This has to be a trick. He’s messing with me on purpose. Nothing else makes sense.

I’m too tired to think about any of it right now, so I focus on eating instead. It’s not like I can ignore my favorite breakfast food.

It’s simple but delicious. I eat all of it before I take a sip of my coffee that is now closer to cold than hot.

Tatum takes our plates to the sink and washes them when we’re done eating.

“If you’d be so kind as to return my peanut butter, I need it for a smoothie,” he says.

“How do you know I took it?” I ask smartly.

“Because we’re the only two people here, Devon, and it’s missing.”

I guzzle the rest of my coffee and slam the mug down.

“You going to tell me why that is?” I demand.

Oops again. I didn’t mean to say that so loudly.

“Why what is?” he asks, sounding tired as if I’ve asked this question a thousand times.

“Don’t be stupid, Tatum. Why I’m here.”

“Are you going to have a normal conversation about it?” he asks patiently, glancing over his shoulder.

“No. I don’t want to have a conversation with you at all. I want you to tell me why the hell you paid three and a half million dollars for me!”

My heart is pounding, and once again, he managed to get me so angry I can’t see straight. I don’t know how he does it, but I hate him for it.

He shuts the water off and grabs the towel to wipe his hands as turns to face me. There isn’t a thing on his face that shows he cares I’m so worked up. He’s so put together. How the hell does he do it?

Holding my gaze, silence falls over us. As I wait for him to answer me, I realize I’m not sure what I want his answer to be.

Do I want it to be revenge? An apology? Saving me from other men? They’re all bad, so which is the lesser evil?

Tatum sighs, running a hand over his hair. It’s curling at the tips, which is usually when he gets a haircut. He hates his curls—I’ve always loved them. I swear it’s why he cuts his hair so short now.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he finally says.

“Try me,” I grit out.

He opens his mouth, but his phone rings and he snaps it shut.

“That’s what I thought,” I say, getting up from the stool to go back to my room. Before I close and lock the door, I whip his peanut butter down the stairs. I smile when I hear it shatter against the floor.

That’s going to be a bitch to clean up.

Chapter Thirteen

Tatum

I answer my phone as Devon storms up the stairs. I wait for the door to slam, but it doesn’t come. Instead, something smashes against the floor in the living room, shattering into a ton of pieces and scaring the absolute shit out of me.

The peanut butter splatters all over the floor, windows, and furniture, the shards of glass skidding outward.

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