Page 99 of Until It Was Real

“Lesson learned,” I mutter as I open the door and motion her inside.

She aims straight for the kitchen. By the time I catch up with her, she has the refrigerator open and is pulling out cheese and cold cuts.

I stop her. “I can do this.”

She startles. “Do you not want me rummaging around your refrigerator?”

I throw the food on the kitchen counter and slam the refrigerator shut before pressing her against it. “You can rummage around anywhere you want in my house. But you don’t have to take care of me. I want to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. But you don’t have to.”

Her gaze meets mine and I get lost in those green eyes. They’re full of wonder and a bit of fear. Damn. I don’t want her to fear me. I want her to trust me. To know I won’t screw her over the way her husband did.

I love her. She’s mine to care for. I open my mouth to tell her as much but no words will come out.

An alarm beeps on her phone and she startles. “I need to deal with this.”

She rushes off and relief pours through me. At lunchtime, while I have her pressed up against the refrigerator, is not the time to confess my love to Dakota. I should plan a romantic evening. She deserves flowers and chocolates, and romance.

As I prepare sandwiches for us, I consider the possibilities. A picnic on the beach or a candlelight dinner. Maybe I should make a reservation atHideaway Haven Resort.The resort is on a secluded part of the island. I bet Dakota would enjoy it.

I frown when I realize she’s been gone for five minutes. My brother should leave her alone during her lunchtime. She works hard enough for him. She deserves a break.

“Dakota,” I holler but she doesn’t reply.

I go in search of her. She’s not in the living room or my office, as I expected. I knock on the powder room. “Havoc, are you in there?”

“Just a second!”

She sounds out of breath. “Are you okay?”

“I’m …” Something crashes to the floor.

I burst into the room. “What happened?”

My gaze lands on her. Her shirt is pulled up, and she’s pressing a cotton swab to her stomach. “Did you hurt yourself?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What does …” I trail off when I notice the item on the vanity. A needle. There’s a fucking needle on the vanity.

“Did you inject yourself?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I—”

“You’re using drugs in my house!” I grind my teeth. I can’t believe this. Dakota is a drug user. “I fucking knew it!”

“Knew what?” she asks but I ignore her.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you. I can’t believe I ever thought I could. I can’t believe I thought you were special.” I shake my head. “Fooled again.”

“You don’t understand.”

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her. “Hell yea, I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could lie to me. Lie to my face. I introduced you to my family. My brothers consider you their little sister. And all this time it’s been a fucking lie.”

Tears stream down her face. “It’s not a lie. Let me explain.”

---