Page 39 of Betrayed in the Dark
“You.” I shake my head. “You’re too damn stubborn to admit you want me.”
“I do not—”
“And there you go, lying again.”
She scoffs as she looks me up and down. “You think you’re so damn special, don’t you?”
I wink. “I know I am.”
A mocking laugh bursts from between her lips. “You are nothing to me, Eli Lyon. Nothing. In fact, you are the most selfish, self-centered, bloody wan—”
I clasp a hand over her lips, pressing her into the leather seat. “Most people would take what you’re saying to heart because they think that’s who you are—a spoiled, self-entitled brat. But I know you’re not. You’re not even close to being one, for thatmatter. You put on this act when you’re cornered and scared of showing your true feelings. You lash out, fight back, and hit them where it hurts because you want to remind them who you are. But I know who you are. Always have.” She drops her gaze, her features softening. “So, I will do us both a favor and stop you before you say something you’ll regret. You don’t want to admit you want me. But I’ll admit it. I’ll tell you to your face how fucking badly I want you. And when you’re ready to tell me you need me, you know where to find me.”
Dropping my hand, I sit back in my seat and face forward.
“Miss Alarie?” Reginald’s voice comes through the speaker beside our heads.
She takes a steady breath, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yes?”
“We’re here.”
“Great. Thank you.”
The car comes to a stop, and I look out the window beside me, instantly recognizing the building as I made frequent visits here with Scarlett while I was her bodyguard.
“Why are we here?”
She sighs, her hand gripping the handle. “Because it helps me.” She steps out of the car, and I quickly follow her to the trunk, where she begins unloading bags. “Well, don’t just stand there.” She gives me a pointed glare. “Take a bag or two. Put those muscles to actual use.” She walks around me, heading toward the door where a welcome sign for the St. Elizabeth Jean’s Center for Women and Children is displayed.
And as I look back at the trunk filled with winter coats, mittens, scarves, and socks, it dawns on me…
Fuck…I am a bloody wanker.
With my arms filled with bags, I take off after her. I watch as she enters the building, letting the door close behind her.
“She does this quite often,” Reginald comments, catching up to me, carrying more bags in his hands.
“She does?”
“Yes. Usually, when she’s stressed, but lately…well, let’s just say we’ve been making this a frequent stop.” A slight frown appears on his face as he walks ahead to open the door.
“Wait, are we allowed to go inside?” I ask, peering around. I’ve never entered the building before, in fear of intimidating any of the women who come here for help. A guy my size is probably the last thing they want to come face-to-face with.
Reginald nods. “We’ll be quick.”
As we enter, a woman with a friendly smile appears. “Well, if it isn’t our most loyal shopper.”
“Betty.” Madeleine grins. “It’s the least I can do. I heard we were expecting a big storm next week, and I just wanted to ensure there were plenty of coats to go around.”
“Well, judging by the number of bags in everyone’s hands, I’d say we have more than enough.” Betty’s eyes travel over to me. “And who do we have here?” She looks at Madeleine and waggles her brows. “Is this your handsome fiancé?”
“No!” Madeleine answers with force, aggressively shaking her head. “Definitely not.”
My chest tightens, feeling offended by her abrupt response. And before I take a second to stop myself and think, the question, “Would that be such a bad thing?” rushes out of my mouth, taking Madeleine by surprise.
Her lips part in shock, and it takes a moment before she mutters, “Well…it’s just…” She glances between me and Betty, completely dumbfounded.
I don’t know what I expected her to say, but her silence only adds to the growing ache across my chest.
