Page 94 of Handsome Devil
“Yeah?” I laughed humorlessly. “Well, you’re a shit businessman then. Because so far, you’ve got next to nothing out of this arrangement.”
“Yet.”
All the despair, grief, and hopelessness inside me had morphed into hot, white rage. Before I knew what I was doing, I slapped his cheek. Hard. The sound of it rang between us, echoing over the bare walls. He didn’t even touch his cheek. Just stared down at me, hard jaw tightening, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Do it again,” he ordered. “I deserve it.”
I pressed my lips together, crying. I really needed to stop crying. And slapping him too. We were so toxic. I didn’t like the person I was becoming with him.
“If it makes you feel better,” his baritone was low, his eyes boring into mine, “hurt me. Transfer your pain to me. It’s just pain. I can take it.”
Just pain? Who said something like that?
“Slap me. Punch me. Kick me. Cut me.” He paused. “But don’t youdareleave me before our contract is up, Apricity, or you’ll feel the wrath of a thousand fucking wars.”
The lift arrived, and the door slid open. Neither of us moved. The door closed.
Tate snatched my hand and brought it to his face. “Do it.”
And I remembered dejectedly that my husband’s past was murky and full of dark secrets. Maybe he was used to being people’s punching bag. Maybe the invincible man in front ofme was forged from abuse, sculpted by brutality. After all, to become cruel, one must experience cruelty.
“No, I won’t hurt you.” I wrenched my hand from his hold. “I’m sorry I lost control. Regardless of your abhorrent behavior, violence is never the answer.” I licked my lips. He was staring at me with odd, frantic desperation. “I need air. Don’t follow me. Not you either.” I pointed at Enzo and Filippo behind us.
Tate gave them a quick, jerky nod.
I turned around and pushed the door leading to the stairway, running. From Tate. From Mum. From the terrible news.
Hospice. It was only a matter of time now. The countdown had begun, and I had no way to stop it.
My vision was blurred with tears as I took the stairs two at a time. When I reached the main floor, I slammed into a hard body. I gasped, my mind immediately going to the Irish. But when I blinked the tears out of my vision, I saw Dr. Stultz.
“Gia.” He clutched my shoulders, a fatherly air to him.
For a moment, I wondered ifhewas a part of the Callaghan family. I trusted no one at this point.
“I didn’t want to finish the conversation on such a bad note,” Dr. Stultz explained. “I hope you know we did all we could.”
I nodded, the heat behind my nose warning me another wave of weeping was fast approaching. “Of course I know that.”
Dr. Stultz rubbed at his cheek. “I’m going to take off my doctor cap for a second and speak to you candidly, if I may.”
I sniffled, nodding again.
“I’m the first to appreciate a man who would pluck the moon from the sky for his woman, but your husband was wrong to do what he did to get your mother placed in the program. He could go to prison for a long time if his actions come to light.”
My eyebrows slammed together. “What do you mean?”
Dr. Stultz studied me in surprise. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That he managed to break into one of the most secure database servers in the world, add your mother’s data to a vetted list of candidates, and then had the audacity to send someone to threaten a top neurologist at gunpoint to falsify her test results to meet the desired criteria for the program.” He paused. “At least that’s my educated guess, considering her state and the coincidental way stars aligned.”
My mouth went dry.
Tate did that?
I was horrified, yes, of course. But also…comfortedsomehow.
