Page 168 of Seeking Vengeance

I attempt to pull my arm free, but he tightens his hold.

“Don’t test me,amore mio.” The endearment is growled. “My patience is dead.”

“Please give me your phone.” I implore him, no longer capable of fighting. “Let me call and see where he is.”

“In the car.”

I pause, barely recognizing him through the aggression. Sweat beads along his brow. His eyes are wild. And that hold of his is restrictive—tight and confounding, like he refuses to release the tether holding us together.

I shake my head, wishing I could depend on him but knowing I can’t.

“You’d prefer to take your chances wasting time in here than trust me to save you?” He inches closer, his brows furrowing. “Do you hate me that much?”

My heart says no.

My head disagrees.

“Let me call him. It won’t take long.”

“I’ll throw you over my shoulder, Layla. You know I will. Stop using my mistakes as an excuse to risk your life. You’re smarter than that.” He releases me, his chin rising at the loss of contact. “I’ll make sure you see Cole, okay? I’ve already spoken to him once today. Your sister, too.”

I flinch in confusion. “How? Why?”

“I knew you had no way of getting home.”

I swallow, hating how useless and predictable I’ve become. “He knows what you did,” I whisper. “And who you are.”

“He told me as much.”

“He’ll kill you,” I add, gaining face the only way I know how.

“Yeah, he made that clear, too.”

“Can we get the fuck out of here?” Bishop mutters from the alley. “Save the foreplay for later.”

I scowl at the interruption. At the bullshit Bishop always provides.

“Look.” Matthew raises his hands in surrender. “I understand your hatred.”

“No, you don’t.” He couldn’t comprehend how my father did the exact same thing to me. How I was led to believe I was adored when I wasn’t. That I was appreciated when instead I’d only been used.

“If I’d known about your connection with Emmanuel, I never would’ve—”

“Deceived me for every minute we were together?” I accuse. “You knew I deserved to be told they were your family.”

“And you would’ve run.”

“Exactly.” I rub my wrist where his hand had just been, soothing the tingling skin. “If I’d been aware, I never would’ve been with you.”

“What about the things I should’ve been aware of?” He grates through clenched teeth. “You didn’t do me the courtesy of telling me I was fucking my way back into the underworld. I had to find out—”

A pounding knock sounds at a nearby room.

I freeze. Matthew straightens.

“Housekeeping,” Remy shouts.

“They’re going door to door,” Bishop snarls. “Yet again, we don’t have fucking time for this.”

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