Page 52 of Pray for the Damned

I grasp her around the waist and tug her against me. “Don’t run, Little Temptress,” I whisper against the shell of her ear. “I know that’s what you do. I know you don’t think this can be anything more than one night, but it can. Let me prove it to you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “This was fun, but I can’t have a relationship right now.”

She shoves against my arms, but I can’t find it in me to let her go. She feels too fucking right against me.

“Please, Waverly. Give us a shot. Please.”

“I can’t, Emmett. I can’t.” She ducks out of my hold and dips to pick up her dress before quickly tugging it over her head.

She moves so quickly that I don’t have a chance to do so much as pull on my pants before she has her handbag in hand, and she looks over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are full of regret and sadness, tears brimming at the edges as she swallows heavily around them. “I’ll see you around.”

And then she’s gone.

“Fuck!” I roar, my body trembling with anger with every second that she gets further away.

I knew this was a risk. Hell, it’s one I planned for. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt. Can’t she see how badly I want her? Doesn’t she recognize how far I would go to keep her safe?

No, because she doesn’t know what you’ve done for her. She doesn’t know the things you’ve done to keep her safe.

But she will.

Soon she’ll know there’s no escaping me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

WAVERLY

The club is almost completely deserted when I slip from the private room, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t need all the members to witness my walk of shame, especially as I struggle to get my shoes on without bending in a way that makes my ribs protest.

It’s not until I reach the main floor that I find a few stragglers in the bar area, including Abigail flirting with one of the regulars I’ve seen hanging around her the last couple of nights we’ve worked together.

I swipe at my cheeks, trying and failing to hold the tears at bay until I get onto the street. There’s more than enough money in my account to get a cab tonight, and although it’s not an expense I would ordinarily like to spend on, it’s a necessary one. I’m too upset to watch my back, which is dangerous for a five-foot-nothing woman on the streets of New York City in the middle of the night.

“Waverly?” a familiar voice calls as I’m about to push my way into the front bar, and I consider ignoring them, but Wyatt is my boss, and I don’t want to lose this job. Not when I finally have enough money to pay my bills and not have to work at a shitty job like the diner.

I turn but keep my eyes trained low. “Hey.” I force my voice to remain even, but I can’t hide the wobble in the single word.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice moving closer to me. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “No one hurt me.” Except myself. I leave that part out, though. My boss doesn’t need to know how fucked up I am and that I can’t accept any kind of true intimacy because my upbringing and life up to this point have been so messed up.

“Are you sure? You’re crying.” Wyatt’s standing a couple of feet away, like he knows I’m at risk of bolting if he gets any closer. “You can tell me if someone did, Waverly. It’ll just be between us, and I’ll make sure whoever it is doesn’t get away with it.”

“No one hurt me.” I force my eyes up to meet his. He already knows I’m crying, he might as well see the truth in the words. “I promise, I’m okay. I just need to get home and go to bed.”

He considers me for a moment before flicking a look over his shoulder. “Let me drive you home. I don’t want you getting in a stranger’s car when you’re upset like this.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m just going to grab a cab.”

He looks like he’s about to argue but then seems to think better of it. “You promise you’re getting a taxi and you’re not going to try to walk?”

“I promise.”

“And you promise you would tell me if someone did hurt you?”

I nod. “I will.”

He sighs. “Fine. Get out of here before Brodie sees you crying. The mother hen in him can’t cope when you girls cry.” There’s a light smile on his lips that tells me he’s trying to bring light to the situation, and I’m grateful for it.

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