Page 50 of Desire Me
“Conté owes money? How much?”
“Not sure. I’ve got a few folks I can contact today to see if they know, people better connected on that side than I am.”
At least it wasn’t a dead end. Saint thanked the PI and ended the call, then headed for the shower.
His team arrived shortly after, and he went into the kitchen to start fresh coffee. Everyone followed, and Elliot moved to the bread box to retrieve bagels while King grabbed butter and cream cheese and jam from the fridge. His friends knew him well, knew his house well. He wondered if having them around would comfort him once Rae was gone.
He was so attuned to the slightest sound that theclickof the lock opening on the bedroom door had him jerking his head around. Rae walked down the hall, her hair wet, clothes comfortable, face naked—so beautiful she took his breath away. He didn’t think she ever wouldn’t. When she caught him watching her, she met his gaze squarely, and he could tell from one look that she still hadn’t forgiven him. Maybe she never would.
Maybe he was feeling a bit sorry for himself.
Rae entered the kitchen to a chorus of greetings and settled at the island with a cup of coffee. Elliot placed a toasted bagel in front of her, and he watched hungrily as she doctored it and the coffee, though it wasn’t the food that stirred his appetite. The longer the silence went on, the more looks his team threw him, until he knew he’d have to say something. Well, he had to say something anyway. They needed to know that Rae was remembering. What that meant in regard to him didn’t matter right now.
Still, he did nothing but watch until she’d finished eating her bagel. Then he braced himself.
“Rae—”
“I’m leaving.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, but only for a moment.This isn’t a surprise. Toughen the fuck up.
“No.”
Rae raised an eyebrow at that. “You can’t stop me.”
“I sure as hell can.”
Dain cleared his throat, probably hoping to ward off World War III. “Rae, want to tell us what brought on this decision?”
She turned to look at Dain, betrayal darkening her tired eyes. “Did you know, Dain?”
A vee of confusion creased between his team lead’s brows. “Know what?”
Rae gave a bitter laugh. “I mean, I’m sure you all did—no way could Saint have fooled all of you the way he did me. You were seeing him every day at work; you’d know if he had some chick holed up in his apartment, right?” She shook her head. “What I don’t get is why. Why did you all go along with this? I thought about it all night long, and you know the answer I came up with?”
Dain didn’t look confused any more. “So you’ve regained your memory.”
“Not all of it,” Saint explained, his voice as neutral as he could get it with the fear surging inside him. “She remembers some of that night, at least up until the accident.” Thank God not more than that. The doctor had believed she wouldn’t remember afterward, and he prayed that remained true. The thought of her pain made him sick; he didn’t want her to endure that again, even in her memories.
But if she did, there’d be nothing he could do to stop it. He wouldn’t be there to wipe away the pain with his mouth, his body, the way he wanted to wipe her pain away now.
He looked down at the floor, letting the knowledge register that she truly wanted him gone. Really thinking about it—and analyzing his response. He was giving up, had been all night. Oh, he knew that if Rae truly hated him now, wanted nothing to do with him, he couldn’t stop her from walking away. Wouldn’t, not against her will, no matter what he’d said. But if he was that easy to walk away from, she wouldn’t be this hurt by it. She wouldn’t be this angry.
He couldn’t hold her here without consent, but that didn’t mean he should give up the fight before it even started. Rae was worth fighting for; the love he felt, the deep hunger in his soul for hers, wasn’t something he could just walk away from. He had to make her see why he’d done this, not—
“The only why I can come up with is that you’re all involved in this somehow,” Rae said. “And I’m not staying where I’m not safe.”
Now that made him angry. The fire felt good, waking him up, firming his resolve. He stepped forward, planting his fists on the island, leaning in until his face was mere inches from Rae’s. “I didn’t run you over, Rae,” he told her, voice tight. “You would have remembered that. And I’m not involved with the people who did.”
This close he could see that Rae was breathing hard, emotion racing through her. The sight gave him hope. The defiance in her eyes made him want to throw her over his shoulder, carry her back to the bedroom, and fuck her until all that rebellion turned to fire beneath him.
“Nothing else makes sense,” she said.
“Nothing?” This time it was Elliot who stepped forward. “Rae, what you’re saying doesn’t make sense either. If we wanted you gone, we could have made that happened the second Saint left the hospital with you. Hell, anytime he was there with you alone. We didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” She waved a hand around the kitchen.
Rae hesitated. “Nothing else makes sense.”
The words were weaker this time, less rock-solid certain. Saint took advantage of that and rounded the island. Rae tried to slide off the opposite side of her barstool, but he gripped the edge just in time and swung her back toward him, his hands planted on either side of her thighs caging her in. “Something else makes perfect sense, Rae. Do you want to know what it is?”
