Page 38 of Cinderella and the Daddy
Ifind him in the garage after breakfast. Leo is on his way to the dentist, which means I have no one to hang out with. And I have a few things I would like to say to Luka.
Yesterday, he avoided me like the plague.
This morning, I wake up and find my locket repaired and sitting on my dresser. I’m pretty sure there’s another tracker in it, but I’m wearing it anyway. I have nothing to hide.
He’s leaning over the open hood of his Mustang. His hands are already stained with grease. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that reveals those tattooed forearms that have haunted my dreams.
He doesn't look up when I enter, but I see his shoulders tense. He knows I'm here.
"We need to talk," I say.
"No, we don't." He keeps his eyes on the engine, adjusting something with more force than necessary.
"Yes, we fucking do." I step closer, close enough to smell his cologne mixed with motor oil. "Look at me."
"I'm busy."
The dismissal lights a fire in my chest. After everything the man has put me through, he's going to stand there and pretend I don't exist?
"Coward," I spit.
That gets his attention. His head snaps up, those hazel eyes blazing with fury. "What did you say?"
"You heard me." I take another step forward, close enough now that I could reach out and touch him. "You're a fucking coward, Luka Markovic.Big bad mob bosswho's afraid to admit he might have been wrong."
He straightens to his full height, towering over me. "I wasn't wrong."
"Then look me in the eye and tell me I betrayed you." My voice cracks slightly, but I push forward. "Tell me I mean nothing. Tell me you don't believe a word I said."
For a moment, we just stare at each other. I can see the war playing out in his expression—anger and doubt and something that looks dangerously close to regret.
"Tell me," I whisper, moving even closer. I reach for the locket around my neck. “If I were guilty, would I willingly put on your tracker?”
He opens his mouth, but no words come out. His jaw clenches, that muscle ticking in his cheek. He doesn’t deny there’s a tracker in the necklace.
For some reason, I like the idea of him knowing where I am. It makes me feel like I belong. I’m wanted enough that he wants to know where I am.
"I thought so." I shove against his chest with both hands, putting all my frustration and hurt behind it. He barely moves, solid as a fucking wall. "You know I'm innocent. You know it, but you're too proud to admit you were wrong."
I shove him again, harder this time. "Say it!"
His hands shoot out, catching my wrists before I can push him a third time. "Stop."
"No!" I struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. "You destroyed my mother's necklace. The only thing I had left of her. For what? Because you're paranoid? Because you can't trust anyone?"
“I fixed it.”
“Yeah, because you want your leash on me.”
"You want the truth?" His voice is low and dangerous. "Fine. Here's the truth. I don't know what to believe anymore. Every instinct I have tells me you're lying, but when I look at you..."
He trails off, his grip on my wrists loosening slightly.
"When you look at me, what?"
"When I look at you, I see something I can't afford to want." The admission seems to cost him something. "Something that will get us both killed if I'm wrong."
His thumbs stroke over the pulse points on my wrists. I know he can feel how fast my heart is racing.
