Page 78 of The Brutal Arrangement

The gift of this phone and the log-in access to my mother’s room hinted at his giving a damn about me, but I couldn’t take that leap of faith yet. I had been treated too badly for me to want to open my heart to him again. He’d scared me off from the possibility that this “marriage” could be anything more than fucking to make a baby, followed by distance and dismissals the rest of the time.

Later than night, as I finished dinner in the apartment—alone—I began to settle in for the night. Going to bed without Damon was depressing.

But what isn’t depressing about my life anymore?

He’d given me a glimpse of such bliss and security, but it was just a physical thing.

He’d given me a preview of something that I thought could grow into something more.

“Forget about it,” I whispered to myself as I left the dining room to go to the bedroom. “He’s not going to ever?—”

The door to the elevator slid open, startling me. When Damon winced and stepped off it, holding his side, I flinched.

“Damon?”

He glanced up, seeming shocked to find me there. “Oh.” Then another grimace crossed his face as if speaking at all was too hard.

“What’s going on?” I hurried toward him, alarmed that he was clearly wounded.

“I thought you’d be asleep already. I just came for more clothes.” Moving aside, he seemed intent on avoiding me. “I won’t be long.”

“You’rebleeding,” I scolded, reaching out for him.

One arm lifted as he shrugged, but he shouldered past me.

“What happened?” I ran after him, cutting him off and directing him toward the kitchen instead. This distance between us was awkward, and I was still confused about how to be near him after all that happened, but I’d never wish him dead. I couldn’t when deep down, he had shown me so much good.

“Caught up in some trouble,” he said vaguely, trying to push past me again.

“Stop. Let me help.”

“That’s not necessary,” he argued.

“Fine. Let someone else help you,” I shouted, too fed up with this damn dismissal. “Because God forbid Iwantto help you.”

He caught my wrist as I turned to leave.

“What?” I didn’t try to pull from his grip. Meeting his gaze was a challenge, though. Just seeing those dark-brown eyes taunted me.

“Why would you want to help me?” he asked, tense and almost nervous.

“Because! Because against my better judgment, I care.”

His fingers tightened around my wrist as he narrowed his eyes. “No. You don’t. You can’t. If you cared about me, you wouldn’thave been so quick to assume I handled your mother’s care just to trap you in this marriage with me.”

“Oh, right. I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion. So sorry. It’s not so easy to understand why you would’ve done that when you’ve made it clear that I’m just a thing to keep and fuck when the mood strikes.”

He gritted his teeth, pulling me flush against his rock-hard chest. “You’re mywife.”

“Then treat me like one,” I snarled.

With a low growl rumbling from his chest, he lowered his head and kissed me hard. The first touch of his firm lips over mine stole my breath. Gasping against the rough hit of his kiss, I lost the fight to stand up to him.

I didn’t want to.

Not really.

I wanted more than anything for him to let me in and give me a chance to matter to him.

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