Page 12 of Ruthless Regret

My eyes fall on the suitcase near the door. Has it only been a couple of days since I’d packed it again, preparing to run back to New York? It feels like a lifetime ago.

I shake my head, and the movement is reflected in the mirror on top of the dresser. I can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier.

The attack. The hands grabbing me. The glint of a knife gripped in his hand.

I cross my arms, shivers wracking my body. My chest feels tight, my mind racing. I should be thankful I got out of there in one piece. That Zain let me go without argument.

His name makes my throat close up, my thoughts tangling into knots I can’t unravel.

I hate him.

No you don’t.

God, but Iwantto hate him with every fiber of my being.

Zain. The sex.

Oh god, what was I thinking?

I slept with him. Why the fuck did I sleep with him?

Because you’re attracted to him. You’ve already admitted that to yourself.

I hate him for what he’s done to me, for how he’s manipulated me. But somehow, that doesn't matter. It’s as though there’s a weird twisted magnetic force pulling us together.

Don’t be so dramatic. Just say it. Admit it.

I’m attracted to the man who’s trying to ruin my life.

What is wrong with me?

I want to run away. Go back to New York, and the life I had before any of this. That would be easier. I could shut it all down, the same way I did when I left Whitstone all those years ago.

I could pretend that Zain Ryder is still in prison, that the past three days didn’t happen. That I didn’t marry the man I thought had killed my brother.

I glance across the room, at the wedding ring I threw across it earlier. It’s still there, partially visible beneath the bed. I should leave it there, and walk away from all of this. I should have refused to marry him, refused to play his game.

But I don’t really think it would have stopped him.

He’s blackmailed me. Threatened to ruin my life if I didn't do as he wanted. He gave me no choice, and forced me to play a part in his plan to destroy me for something I thought would remain forever in the past.

I’m sure he would have found a way to do it, even if I hadn’t come back to Whitstone. He’d have found me somehow.

But there’s a little voice, deep down inside. One that whispers that I’mlettinghim bully me, pressure me,useme. I’m allowingit because I feel like I deserve to be punished for my part in his imprisonment.

And it almost got me killed.

My reflection draws my gaze again. My face is pale, almost unfamiliar, my eyes hollow and red-rimmed from my storm of tears.

I’ve always been proud of the way I rebuilt my life when I moved away from Whitstone, of the rational, non-emotional person I became. I found friends, a job, a boyfriend.

But standing here, I feel like I’ve lost all control. My emotions are all over the place, and I’m scared that this is just the beginning of a spiral into darkness that I’m not going to be able to escape from.

The knock on the door startles me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Shit. My friends.

They’re waiting for me. Waiting for answers.

---