Page 45 of Theirs to Rule

I bristled, fists clenching at my sides. “Because I picked a nice guy for once?” I shot back.

“Because you have no idea what kind of guy Dante really is.”

His words hit their mark, and I felt my chest tighten with doubt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I hated that he was getting to me, making me question things I didn’t want to question.

“Did he tell you why he was covered in bruises?”

I didn’t respond, and Ty raked a hand through his hair. He began pacing. For the first time, I saw something flicker acrosshis face, something that wasn’t anger or sarcasm. It looked a little like vulnerability.

“Shit, this is getting us nowhere,” he muttered, his voice strained as he stopped pacing. “What if I asked you not to transfer out of art class? To stay as my partner? What if I gave you something you wanted in return?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You’d do that just so you can keep torturing me?”

I waited for him to say yes or say no. Because if he said no, he’d have to admit there was another reason for wanting to pair up for the art assignment. Like he wanted to protect himself from the humiliation of exposing his scars to a stranger. Or even maybe that he truly didn’t hate me, after all.

“Forget it,” he finally said. “Transfer out. I don’t need you.”

He turned to leave, and I told myself to let him. But I was an idiot, because the thought of him needing me and me not being there for him, even after all the shit he’d put me through, even if he wasn’t willing to ask me to help him, suddenly made me nauseous. “Wait,” I called.

He froze.

I struggled with myself before asking, “What are you willing to give me in return?”

He slowly faced me. “What do you want?”

My mind scrambled for something. I didn’t want him to know this was about any softness I felt toward him. Make this look like a business deal and it would be much easier to get the assignment done and move on. “Money,” I blurted out.

He cocked a brow and leaned against the wall. “How much money?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

He smirked. “You want me to give you ten thousand dollars so you’ll do a nude drawing assignment with me?”

“What’s the matter? You don’t have that kind of money? Barely making ends meet nowadays, Ty?”

He laughed even as his expression darkened. “Swan, I’m fucking filthy rich. Even though the government seized my inheritance after my family was murdered, they had to give it back to me after my conviction was overturned.”

Shit. “Oh.” I shook my head. “You know what, never mind?—”

“No.” He straightened. “That’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Ten thousand dollars. But if we’re going to do this, you can’t ask me about my family, the accident, prison, or anything from the past. Those are the rules.”

He was hiding it, but even his brief mention of his dead family had changed things. He was literally backing away from me, putting distance between us so he wouldn’t risk exposing any more of his pain.

How had we gotten from him taunting me to me agreeing to do the art assignment with him to me wanting to cry and hold him in my arms while I encouraged him to cry for all he’d lost?

This was how it was always going to be between us. Any interaction would be full of confusion, painful memories and seeing who could draw first blood and still stay standing.

“Okay, Ty,” I said. “You have a deal. But I have a condition of my own.”

“I thought your condition was ten grand?”

“We both know the money means nothing. What I want is to get this project done and then you forget I exist. If you see me on campus, you avoid me. If you think I need saving, you stay away. I don’t want to ever talk to you again. Are you willing to give me that?”

Instead of answering me, he turned on his heel. I stood there, staring after him as he headed to the front door and reached for the doorknob. There, he paused, then turned back to me. “Yougot it. After the art project is over, we cease to exist for one another.”

Chapter 21

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