“Yeah. Of course I did.”
Her blue eyes darken. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
I shrug. “Left early. What the hell was I supposed to do, let the bastard get his hands on you?”
“I just…” Her mouth twists into a crooked smile. “Didn’t think you cared.”
I frown at her. “Tess… I do care for you. Dammit.”
She looks straight ahead, at the road, as if focused on driving, but her mouth trembles.
“Tess…” I suck in a deep, bracing breath. “I know I fucked up, but at least believe this much.”
She shakes her head and leans back in her chair, pulling on the handbrake. I look outside. We’re home, but I make no move to get out of the jeep. There’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask—ever since that fateful gala night when she fell into my arms and then stood between me and her ex as if she’d take a bullet for me.
As if she expected a bullet from him.
“This Sean Anholt…” Her gaze shoots sideways at me, her eyes wide. “What did that motherfucker do to you?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Look, I know I don’t deserve your trust. Not yet. But I swear to God, Tess, I’m gonna find him and hang him from his balls, whether you tell me how he hurt you or not, because he did. You can’t lie to me.”
She clenches her slender hands on the leather-bound wheel and worries her lower lip with her teeth. That’s always a distracting sight, but I’m both too worked up and too exhausted to do anything about it.
Besides, she’d probably curse at me and leave, never to return.
“He did hurt me,” she finally admits, not looking at me. “Forced himself on me. But that was years ago.”
I smash my fist into the dashboard, and she yelps. “I’ll fucking kill him.” Rage colors my vision red, makes my pulse pound in my head. Makes the world spin.
“No, Dylan.” She reaches for me, and her hand hovers an inch from my face, never touching. “Don’t.”
I lower my fist, breathing hard, and force myself to stillness. “I’ll make him pay.”
“No,” she says again, her fingertips trailing over my jaw. “You won’t. You can’t. His family owns half of Chicago. You’ll only get yourself behind bars, and your brothers will be left with nobody to look after them.”
Dammit. Fucking hell. My jaw aches from grinding so hard. “I can’t promise you I won’t.”
“No. I told you. This is my life, my past, and my decisions. You don’t get to do this because you’re angry, not when I tell you I don’t want you to. I want to forget the past, not make its consequences worse.” Her hand drops to my shoulder. “I’m asking you to not approach Sean Anholt for any reason, okay?”
Unable to reply to this in any acceptable manner, I open the door of the jeep and jump out. The world is spinning faster now, and as I turn to close the door, it tilts and starts going b
lack. I grip the car door to keep my knees from buckling and blink furiously, waiting for my eyes to clear. I feel as if I can’t get enough air in my lungs, and my harsh breathing echoes in my ears.
Slowly my eyes clear, and I make out the street lamps, the house with its yard of overgrown weeds—and Tessa’s worried face.
She steps closer, wrapping an arm around my back. “You really are wiped out, aren’t you? Dylan?” She waits until my acknowledging nod, before she says, “Let’s get you inside.”
I say nothing, letting her drag me down the path to the front door. Then I dig in my heels, and my pulse starts pounding again.
A piece of paper is stuck on the door, fluttering in the wind.
It reads, ‘Judgment Day is coming.’
Chapter Thirteen
Dylan