Page 155 of Love Me Reckless

“I don’t really have any.”

“Let’s have a look around, yeah?”

“Sheldon, please?—”

He grabs me by the arm, jerking me into motion. I cry out. He’s moving fast and I trip over my feet trying to keep up. Sheldon races forward, undeterred, to the bottom of the stairs.

“Is your room up there?”

“No.” I try to catch my breath. “Down the hall. At the back.”

He takes off down the dark hallway, dragging me alongside him so fast I’m practically running. My purse, now heavy and thick, is like an awkward growth at my side, banging into things and slowing me down.

“This art worth anything?” Sheldon asks as we pass an original Cesc Farré of a Spanish seascape.

“No,” I lie.

Thankfully, he believes me. Or maybe he realizes the difficult logistics of carting around a giant piece of artwork. I know with the glass it’s definitely too heavy for one person to carry.

“Here?” Sheldon asks as we round the doorway to the bedroom. My skin jolts. Maybe I’m not ready to see the room I shared with Birch, or maybe I’m scared Sheldon is going to tear it apart looking for what I don’t have.

Our reflection in the glass wall opposite comes into focus an instant before Sheldon flings me to the bed. I stumble forward. My ankle folds and I hear as much as feel a pop followed by hot pain shooting up my shin. I just stop my fall with the edge of the bed, breathing fast.

Sheldon hurries to the dresser and starts yanking open the drawers. I notice he’s put the gun in the back of his waistband. Can I use this to my advantage somehow?

“Where is it?” he barks.

Each slam of the drawers spurs more frustration inside me. “I told you. I don’t have any.” I rub my ankle but it just makes it hurt worse.

Sheldon steps into the closet. For an instant, all I hear are hangars clashing. Then with a muttered curse, he hurries out and crosses to the bathroom, sending me a menacing glare on his way past.

Why won’t he quit?

Inside the bathroom, more drawers slam, then the clattering of cosmetics cases and bottles of nail polish as he rakes through everything. He then moves to my bedside table, yanking the drawer so hard it clatters to the floor.

He’s out of control and I don’t know how to stop it. I need to get him out of the house. Away from what must feel like an irresistible urge to take, take, take. Is this what Sawyer’s had to deal with all these years?

Sheldon’s wild eyes zero in on my ring. He opens his palm. “Hand it over.”

Tears sting my eyes as I slip it free. He tucks it into his pocket, then he nods at the opal pendant hanging from my neck. “That too.”

“No.” I try to scamper away, but he closes his fingers around it, locking me in place.

We stare at each other. The tension from the chain digs into the back of my neck. If he pulls any harder, it’s going to snap. Up close to him like this, I can’t escape the ashy vanilla from his breath or the sickness practically oozing from his pores. “It’s not worth anything.”

“You’re lying.” He goes to yank it, but I grab his fist.

“Sheldon, please! My grandma gave it to me. It’s the only piece of jewelry I care about.”Opals are special.Some even call them lucky, because not only do they show all the colors but the natural processes that create them are so rare.I can’t let him have this. “Don’t you haveanything that’s special to you?” I lock eyes with him, but I might as well be looking into an abyss. “That’s beyond its worth in dollar signs?”

He pauses, and for an instant, I think maybe I’ve gotten through to him. But he shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

With a hard tug, the chain pops.

Tears blur my vision as he slips the opal into his pocket.

“I think we’re done here,” Sheldon says, stepping back.

Movement from the doorway catches my eye. I scream.

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