Mom!
Bolting upright, my chest is heaving, body soaked with rain. Her scream still echoes in my ears. It was the kind of scream that bordered on terror. It tore through the house and into my soul like a shard of glass. My eyes widen as I fight to take in air. My heart is thundering like a wild drum against my rib cage.
Hands grab at me, and I cry out as a pair of arms wrap themselves around me, pulling me into a warm chest.
“Shh. It’s okay, Red,” a voice whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Pine and leather envelope me and for a moment I allow myself to relax into the familiarity of his body against mine. I clutch at the arm banded against my chest, holding me tight to him as I sob.
Problem is, I don’t even know what I’m crying about.
Remembering the last moments of my mother’s life? Something my psyche has apparently kept buried for all these years. Or the fact that the man I love is holding me to him like a lifeline? As if I’ll disappear if he lets me go.
The man I thought was dead.
“Let me go,” I croak. His arms tighten for a moment before releasing me. That’s new. He rarely ever does as I ask, only doing what he wants.
I pull myself up from the ground, not bothering to dust myself off since I’m still soaking wet and brushing at wet hay is as useless as mopping rain.
“Krasnyy,” he whispers.
“No.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts before facing him. Even wet and covered in dirt, he is still the most handsome man I have ever seen. Devilishly rogue. He looks like a fallen angel. The devil in a three-piece suit. “You don’t get to call me that.” Pain and sadness shred at my insides.
How could he do this to me?
Leave me like that?
I really mean nothing to him.
“No.” His voice is adamant, face serious as he gazes down at me with an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint. “You mean everything to me.”
A mirthless laugh slips past my dry, swollen lips. “Then why did you do it?” I nearly sob. “Why did you draw up those divorce papers? Why did you take Serena to the gala? Why did you let me believe you died!” By the end I am screaming, my voice gravelly and hoarse. I push at his chest with every accusation, and he takes it. He lets me move him. The immovable force.
“I’m not going to apologize for the mistakes I made, Ava,” he whispers to me. “I made my choices, and I don’t regret them.”
His words are like a slap to the face, and I physically recoil.
“What I do regret,” he tells me, his eyes still soft as he stares down at me, allowing the space to stay between us, “is not seeing that the mistakes I made hurt you so much and how much that hurt me.”
“You really expect me to believe that?” I bristle. The gall of this man. “Do you know how many times I opened myself up to you? Even after you forced me to marry you, I opened myself up to you. Even after you lied to me, I opened myself up to you. Hell, I even opened back up to you after you shut me out and called me a traitor. And you still—still—shut me out again and again. The gala? That was the last straw even if you hadn’t faked your death. And this time—there won’t be any fixing it.”
He smirks, pushing himself closer to me, invading my space with his warmth and smell.
“Do you honestly believe I am giving you a choice, Red?” His eyes spark like thunderstorms. “Because I’m not.”
“Fuck you.” Turning on my heel, I dash out of the barn toward my father’s Ferrari. The rain pelts down from the sky and within seconds I am soaked to the core. I don’t care. I am too hurt. Too angry.
Growling, I search my pockets for the key fob, coming up empty.
“Looking for this?” I spin around to see him dangling the key fob in his hand, a smug smile stretched across his ugly mug.
Okay, it isn’t ugly.
Not in the slightest.
No. I am pissed at him and not thinking about how handsome he is.
“Are you going to give me the key?” I ask, my voice dulled by the howling wind and rain. The fucker smirks and shakes his head.