Page 172 of The Elusive Billionaire
“I—I can’t do this with you. Just let me go.”
His fist clenches above his heart, and his hard body appears to stand taller. He’ll never forgive me for this. No matter what happens next, Grey and I will never have a chance.
Not after I lied to him about the surrogacy app. Riley will either kill him, or Grey will hate me until eternity for lying to him again.
There is no happy ending here. There’s only death or a lifetime of pain—and both options will kill me.
“I don’t believe you,” he calls back.
Slowly I take one step away, then another, but Grey moves in tandem, and I see the red light appear on his chest.
“No!” I taste blood in the back of my throat. “Stop. Please. Stop. Don’t come closer.”
Roman holds a hand to his ear, then says something to Grey—the harsh consonants of words reaching my ears in a cacophony of mismatched sounds.
“Where is he, Savvy?” Grey has lost the edge in his voice, but it’s replaced with sheer determination that scares the living hell out of me.
I shrug with my phone in the air.
“Get rid of them, Sin. Last warning.” I’ve never wished death on someone until this very moment. If Riley disappeared, I would never mourn him.
“What do you want me to do?” I cry. I don’t know if I’m talking to Riley, Grey, or some higher power, but I feel more helpless now than I ever have before.
“Move your fucking ass,” Riley hisses. My legs comply, even though every step I take away from Grey cuts me open with a self-inflicted wound I’ll never be able to heal.
“You don’t have to do this, Savvy.” Grey’s pleading with me while also listening intently to whatever it is Roman is saying at his side.
The bright red light appears on Grey’s forehead again, and I stumble back a few more steps while pure terror is ripped from my chest in a horrifying scream.
“You have one minute to get to me before I start putting holes through that asshole.”
“Savvy, I’m going to come and get you?—”
“No. God no, Grey. Listen to me. P—p—please.” I take a step, and so does he. “I hate you.”
I’m sorry.
“I hate everything about you.”
I love you.
“I hate how awful you were to me. I hate that you saw my insecurities and used them for your own benefit.” I’m hysterical. My words are a run-on sentence full of mucus and shame. Each lie sets my heart on fire.
“I know you do, baby.” Why is he still creeping forward?
“Thirty seconds, Sin. Ticktock.”
I startle and walk backward a little faster.
“I’m not your sister.” I scream so loudly, my words echo off the empty pasture that will host a petting zoo tomorrow.
Grey’s steps falter.
I’m sorry.
“I’m not a replacement or a plan B.” I choke on the hurtful words. “One day, you’ll wake up and realize I was never yours to save.”
He takes one slow step forward. “I love you, Monroe.” The tightness in his tone tells me although he’s saying the words, he’s struggling to believe them.
