Page 173 of Dirty Damage

“I didn’t go to him, Oleg. He came to me!”

“And you just couldn’t turn away, could you?”

“I should have!” I cry. “But I was so worried about Sydney. I did it for my sister. I would never do anything to hurt you, Oleg. Not you or your family or your company. Please, you have to believe?—”

“I want you out,” he interrupts.

He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to bring me to my knees.

“Y-you don’t mean that.”

“I mean every word of it.” His lips curl upwards. “I want you out of this apartment by the time I return this evening. Pack your bags. Leave not a trace of yourself behind. My attorneys will work to sever the contract that binds us. Consider it broken. Any contact you try to make with me, with my company, with anyone connected to me, will be considered harassment and will be punished accordingly.”

“Oleg—”

“Don’t!” he roars so venomously that my mouth snaps shut. “Don’t you fucking speak my name. The contract was a mistake.Youwere a mistake. I’m merely cleaning up the mess.”

Then he storms out of the office.

I stand there, numb and in shock. How could weeks, months of connection have been destroyed so completely, so quickly?

Was he the same man who had drawn me a bubble bath and washed my hair when I was sad about not being pregnant?

Was he the same man who made love to me under the stars out on the open ocean?

Was he the same man who talked to me about his love for the sister he lost, the one regret he will never get over?

It seems impossible that a bond that felt so strong could be over so fast.

Then again, if our bondhadbeen that strong, he would never have believed this of me. He would know what I was capable of and I could never be capable of hurting him.

As the numbness leaves my body, my legs buckle. My knees hit the floor as I keel over, sobs wracking my body, one after the other.

What have I done?

I stay on the floor until my tears dry up. I can’t see much through my puffy eyes, but I draw myself up anyway.

I take a deep breath.

And I start to pack.

This is nothing I haven’t done before. Sydney and I bounced from one foster home to the other. Some, we chose to leave. Others, we were kicked out of. It didn’t really matter in the end because we were always prepared for it.

None of those places were home.

None of those places felt safe.

But as I pack, for perhaps the hundredth time in my life, I realize that as familiar as this is, it’s different, too.

My life has prepared me for this.

That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

51

SUTTON

I underestimated the Palmer women’s curse. I genuinely thought I could kick it. I really thought there was a way to slink out of its hold once and for all.

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