Page 70 of The Passion

Flynn is sitting opposite me in the car and has made no move to be near me. His hands are resting on his knees, clenched tight enough I can see the whites of his knuckles in the dim light of the car.

This isn’t going to go well.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt out because I don’t know what else to say.

“He kissed you,” he growls at me, and I’m not stupid enough to deny it.

“You were watching me.” I try to sound annoyed, but it’s not working.

“I was protecting you!” He throws his hands in the air.

“It was just politely on the cheek, the same way you would do to Nic’s wife.” I’m clutching at straws to defend myself.

“Bullshit.” The look he gives me is one that tells me he is trying to control how he truly feels, and I have to give him credit for not exploding like he wants to right now.

“It’s over now,” I say, but I can tell he’s not finished.

I can almost hear him in his head counting to ten to calm himself, but it’s not really working.

“Let’s just go home.” I don’t even know where home is for us right now but anywhere that I can get him to understand that it won’t happen again and remind him how much he means to me.

“Oh, we are going home. Where I will wash every last drop of that man off you.”

“I don’t need a shower, you’re being ridiculous.” And the moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t be poking the bear.

His fists again clench in and out, and his shoulders are tense in the black t-shirt he has on. I want to reach out and crawl into his lap to take that tension out of his body, but I’m not even game to go near him.

There is fire in his eyes, and it’s not the good kind.

“He. Touched. You.” The slow, deep accentuation on every word sounds like he is in pain. It’s then that I realize the anger is not from a possessive nature.

He’s hurt.

Flynn feels like I betrayed everything we said and did last night by letting Fulton touch me. Even though it was not skin to skin, there was no denying to anyone who saw us that it was in a sexual way. Fulton was letting everyone in the room know I was with him and not just as a friend.

“I’m sorry.” It comes out not much louder than a whisper.

“I know,” he grumbles but still stays where he is, and as I go to move, he holds his hand up, telling me to stop, and I respect his wishes. Sinking back into the seat, my emotions are all over the place. I want to cry, but I also want to scream that I put myself in this position. I want to yell with rage because if it wasn’t for my father, I wouldn’t have to hide Flynn’s and my new relationship.

We continue to ride in silence, and it’s probably for the best.

A voice comes through the speakers in the back of the limousine that makes me jump when it breaks the silence.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir, but your phone keeps coming up with the name Harper. She has called six times in a row and isn’t giving up.”

“Shit, I was supposed to message her.” Reaching to the seat next to me, I fumble with my purse, trying to get to my phone.

“I’ll take it.” Flynn glares at me.

“Oh, thank God, Flynn!” Harper’s voice comes through the speakers. “Felisha is missing, she didn’t message, and she said something happened, and now I can’t find her, she’s not answering her phone.” She is talking so fast I don’t even get a chance to say a word before she started talking hysterically.

“She’s safe with me,” Flynn answers her at the same time I do.

“I’m so sorry, Harper, things got messy,” I yell, forgetting that the microphones are good enough to pick up my voice at a normal level.

“Oh my God, I’m going to kill you! I thought he had kidnapped you or something. What the hell happened?”

Before I could say anything, Flynn says, “Later, Harper, she’s fine.” And I hear her voice disappear in the middle of her reply as he disconnects the call.

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