Page 52 of Every Silent Lie
“You’re talking like I owe you an explanation.”
“You do. Tell me.”
Because I have no idea how to handle this situation, or Dec’s hostility, I swivel away from him. Hiding. Coward. My reprieve from his foul mood is short-lived, and he turns me straight back toward him, taking my glass from my hand and placing it on the bar before taking Hugh’s stool and pulling it as close as he can, invading my personal space.
“Whose glass is it, Camryn?”
I stare straight into his darkening eyes. “A man’s.”
I’m sure I hear the sound of his teeth grinding. “Get your coat on, we’re leaving.”
“What?”
He stands abruptly and dips into his pocket, throwing a pile of notes on the bar. “Get up.”
I stare at the money as Julio dares to venture back to this end of the bar, his lips straight too. “The tab’s been settled,” he says, almost with regret, throwing me an apologetic look.
“By whom?” Dec asks shortly.
Julio peeks at me.
“I’m asking you,” he grates. “Not Camryn.”
“Dec, stop it,” I warn.
He wraps his big hand around my upper arm, trying to stand me up with a gentle but firm force.
“Stop it,” I snap, wriggling free of his hold. “What are you doing?”
It’s the worst timing, and yet I expected it. Hugh strolls out of the men’s, his hands on his zipper still fastening himself. Fuck. His broad smile wavers, and I sigh, reaching for my nose and pinching the bridge as I squeeze my eyes closed. And yet I can’t really play a victim. I knew what I was doing when I came here. The vulnerable, broken woman was hoping to find Dec. The acrimonious, twisted wench whose mother doesn’t recognise her wanted to prove she’s not worthy of his acceptance. Of anyone’s acceptance. I’m a lost cause. Dec can’t save me, and he’d be a fool to believe he can.
“That’s my seat,” Hugh says, his chest puffing out.
“It is not your seat.” Dec swipes up the Negroni and shoves it into Hugh’s chest, spilling the orange liquid down his crisp white shirt. “Take your drink and yourself back to wherever you were sitting before you moved in on the beautiful, intriguing woman at the bar.”
Hugh laughs lightly, looking down his stained shirt. “She never mentioned a boyfriend.”
“Because she doesn’t have one.”
“Then who the fuck are you?”
Something switches in Dec, a red mist of rage dropping and veiling his handsome face, contorting it. He moves closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “I’m the man who’ll fuck you up if you don’t get the fuck away from her now.”
“Dec,” I breathe, shocked.
“Gentlemen,” Julio calls sternly, ready to fly over the bar and drag Dec off Hugh.
“Leave,” Dec grits out. “She won’t be opening her legs for you.”
I balk, my lax mouth falling open. How dare he? “You can stay,” I snap.
Hugh looks absolutely bewildered, his head batting back and forth between us. “The lady would like me to stay.”
“I strongly advise against it,” Dec says quietly, one shoulder leaning forward. His fist could be mistaken for giant snowballs, all the blood squeezed out of his hands. It takes Hugh only a couple more seconds of deliberation before he backs off, collecting his things and leaving the bar. And I don’t blame him. Dec looks as if he could explode at any moment.
And I stand still and quiet, ashamed, embarrassed, the ache in my chest bringing my hand up to try and massage it away. Humiliated.
Shaking, Dec lowers to the stool. I don’t, remaining on my feet, waiting for him to cool off. “I’ll ask you again,” he says, calm but definitely not. “What’s going on?”
