Page 40 of Rebellion

Dear Lord.

She sounded ridiculous.

“Inappropriate? I thought we were friends.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, feeling her temper stir. “I thought we were acquaintances.”

“Hmm. Acquaintances don’t text each other in the middle of the night when they’re upset and needing support.”

“We don’t do that!”

He suddenly smacked his hands down on the desk, making her jump again.

Jesus. She’d nearly peed herself. What the fuck did he think he was doing?

“No. But you’re supposed to, aren’t you, Sofia? You’re supposed to fucking well text me when you’re upset or scared or angry or whatever it is you’re feeling that’s making it impossible for you to sleep.”

“I can sleep.”

He drew himself back, pulling all that anger under a cool mask.

All right, now she wanted the anger back. At least, that was real and honest.

This Colm was one she didn’t know or like...

Face it, you don’t like the angry one, either, because you know he’s angry at you.

“You need to stop lying to me, Sofia. Lie to anyone else; I don’t care. But you don’t lie to me.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because I care.” The words seemed to be ripped out of him, but after he’d said them, there appeared to be some regret in his face.

That regret flayed her.

Because she didn’t want him to regret caring about her. Even though she knew he shouldn’t.

“Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re sweet and kind and caring. And you’re also a brat. You’re so fucking closed off except for those few moments that you let go and show me the real you. Those small sips you’ve given me have just made me thirstier to know all of you. It’s a tease, one I’m certain you’ve done without conscious thought. But it can’t be reversed. You’ve given me parts of you, and Lord help me, but I can’t help but want more.”

“You... I... we can’t do this, Colm.” The words were wrenched out of her, the pain in them so clear to hear.

“I know. Now ask me if I fucking care.”

Her breathing grew ragged. “We can’t be together.”

“Why? Because of Oleg?”

Shit. Yeah. Oleg. She was more thinking about the fact that she was the Princess of the Bratva while he was a bodyguard for the leader of the Irish gang.

But, yeah, sure. Oleg.

“Yes.”

“Dump him.”

“No.” It was whispered, but the word seemed to echo around the room. Then Colm took a step back and her world started to shatter.

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