Page 13 of Forsaken Desire
I ground my teeth. Shouting at her wouldn’t get me anywhere. I’d seen her reaction earlier; stubbornness ran in her veins. Exhaling, I took the same sharp turn as she, leading down a quiet street.
She approached a brown, dilapidated duplex leaning to the side. My mate couldnotlive here. Not when I would provide her with whatever she wanted. Withanythingshe wanted. She disappeared into the apartment, and I quickened my stride until I reached the door. Pounding my fist on the flimsy wood, I worked to contain my anger, but it verged on boiling over.
The door jiggled, and she opened the door a crack. She gasped, and the chain on the door clicked against the wood.
“What are you doing here?”
“To see you,” I said gruffly. I could hear the shower running inside.
“Oh.” And that was all. Her eyes shifted from side to side, and her face reddened. “I don’t think right now is the best time.”
“Nonsense. Let me in,” I barked, and her eyelids flared. Breathing in deeply through my nose, I calmed myself and pressed my palm to the door, holding it wide.
“I just moved in, so I don’t have much?—”
“I don’t mind,” I insisted. There was no need for hesitation between us.
She sighed and licked her lips.
“Fine.” She shut the door, and the chain rattled as she slid it off. The door opened wider, revealing the empty living room. After striding in, I shut the door behind us and locked it even though nothing could hurt her with me around.
Josephine peeked at me from under her lashes and then down at the ground.
“What’s wrong?” I frowned, cupping my hand under her chin. She peeked up at me again.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I’m going to take my shower. There aren’t many places to sit, but my bed?—”
“It’s all right, Princess, go take your shower.” She chewed on her lip and finally nodded, backing toward the sound of the falling water.
The door shut, and I took the time to look around, but there wasn’t much to take in. Her apartment was painfully small. At least her bedroom contained a bed. I moved to the fridge, and there was nothing in except for some sandwich stuff. I frowned and pulled my cell phone out on my way to her room to sit on her bed.
“Shit, my towel.” I heard her little curses, and I couldn’t help the smile spreading. The sensation was odd.
I couldn’t recall anything bringing me joy. When she’d died, or so I thought, it only worsened. Nothing brought me a semblance of pleasure except for killing and fucking. In that order. My mate came out in a plume of steam.
She startled, blinked her beautiful, brown doe eyes at me. Warmth bloomed in my chest, and I fisted my hands in my lap.
She crouched next to one of the plastic bags falling to the side on the ground, and the visual made some visceral tension snake around my heart. She rifled through and plucked out a towel.
The store logo on the bag was unrecognizable.
I could affordHermes,Saint Laurent—any department store she wanted to go to at her heart’s content—yet here was my mate, with nothing to her name.
I’d done this to her. That thickness in my throat throbbed, making its presence known.
The closet loomed empty next to the bags, and the only other item was a book bag. I eyed her stiff expression. She was uncomfortable. It would be difficult to get her to accept things. A challenge I would take head-on.
“You should have called me before you left.” Those were the words that chose to leave my mouth. I hadn’t given her my number, but she turned me into a nervous fool.
“I don’t have a phone,” she said, avoiding my eyes.
No, cell phone?
“How is that—” I cut myself off. It was obvious she wasn’t well off, but a cell phone was a necessity.
She had a shiftiness to her that put me on edge. I didn’t want her to be so anxious, especially with me. Curling her close to my chest would be heaven.
“I dropped it. In the toilet.” She pressed her lips together, nodding tightly as her eyes shifted to the side. So it was a nervous tick.
