Page 82 of Defiant Beta

“Working while you eat.”

“Because?”

He levels me a stare. “We had a deal, didn’t we?”

“Well, yes. But I didn’t expect you to be cooking me a meal.” I pick at the stir-fry.

It smells good, but I’m not hungry, even though I should be, having gone days without eating. A glass of water and dry crackers aren’t nearly enough to sustain a person.

“Della?”

I lift my head. “Yeah?”

He’s not paying attention to his file; he’s focused on me. “You’re not eating.”

I can admit that I haven’t been okay these last few days, or I can eat this chicken stir-fry. I eat the stir-fry.

I don’t finish everything, managing a quarter before I’m full.

“Done?” Vincent asks, closing his file.

Nodding, I drain my glass of water.

He stands up and scrapes my plate into the trash. The dirty plate and fork go into the dishwasher. “Leftovers are in the refrigerator when you want them,” he says, snapping a plastic lid on the glass container and sliding it into the refrigerator. “We’ll start working in two days.”

“Why two days?”

“You need to eat, and I need time to decide how much to tell you.”

“You could tell me all of it,” I suggest.

He stares at me,

Okay, he doesn’t trust easily. I can relate to that.

A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me, and I yawn as I get to my feet. “Well, good night.”

I feel him watching me walk up the stairs, gripping the banister for support.

The moment I walk into my room and see the balcony, I remember the disturbing thing I nearly did, and I’m terrified I might do it again.

Backing out of my room, I close the door and hover in the hallway.

Several doors are closed, and I don’t know which room belongs to whom. I take a comforter from my bed and wrap it around myself before tiptoeing downstairs again.

Vincent is no longer in the kitchen. He isn’t talking in his office anymore, but since I didn’t hear him come upstairs and his file is missing from the kitchen island, he must have retreated there to continue his work.

I find the living room and walk behind an uncomfortable-looking white couch. With my comforter wrapped around me, I settle down on the hardwood floor. Then I close my eyes, hoping that tomorrow I can get a little closer to the Della I used to be.

This Della is truly pathetic.

Chapter 27

Della

Sleep was impossible.

Every time I rolled onto my back, I would jerk awake in agony.

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