Still, I’m lonely without having Easton to talk to and argue with, as strange as that is. I’m used to him hovering over me, drawing me into conversation … or a fight. But nothing of the sorts has happened since he pulled me out of the chains and into the tub. And I have to admit, it was nice for a second to pretend I wasn’t there as a captive. It was sweet of him to wash me, and I honestly felt as though he actually cared about me for once.
But then it was all ruined by his one admission of sending my father footage of me.
The thought alone makes me clench my fist.
I shouldn’t have expected anything different from a man like him.
He’s only driven by revenge.
It shouldn’t upset me, but it does because, for a tiny sliver of time, I thought he meant it when he said he loved me. He didn’t fuck me, didn’t take me as he said he would … even when I told him I wanted it more than anything.
It was the truth.
A truth that made me want to disappear into the water and sink so deep no one could ever find me.
I don’t want to need a man like him. I don’t want my body to ache after his. Yet I do, so badly that it hurts being mad. And I’ve spent the past few hours fuming, trying to come to terms with that fact.
When someone knocks on my door, I’m not at all prepared.
“Yes?” I mutter, touching up my makeup in the mirror.
“Can I come in?”
He never asks. This is strange.
I take in a breath, and say, “Yes.”
The door unlocks, and in he walks, dressed in navy blue. Just as on our wedding day, way back when I didn’t have any of these feelings confusing the hell out of me.
Which is why I don’t look at him. If I did, I’d probably lose the fight for control over my heart. And I refuse to give it to him when he doesn’t deserve it.
Easton clears his throat. “I want to apologize to you for what I did.”
Well, that’s a first. Who is this man apologizing to me? That’s not Easton. Easton would never admit he made a mistake.
“I can’t take back sending those pictures to your father,” he says as I continue to stare at myself in the mirror. “I wish I didn’t need revenge so badly, but I do.”
I suck in another breath, trying so hard not to respond.
“But that’s no excuse for breaking your heart,” he adds.
I lick my lips and close my eyes as I absorb these words, trying to make sense of what they mean … and who is saying them. Is he really sorry, or is he trying to win me over? Does he truly love me or only my body?
“I won’t ask you to forgive me. But I will ask you to come downstairs when you’re ready,” he says.
I turn around, but the last thing I see is his back as he closes the door behind him.
What the …?
What just happened?
Why would he ask me to come downstairs? For what? I don’t understand what’s going on, but I can’t ask him either. He’s given me no choice but to follow him, so I do.
He’s already in the hallway when I’m staring down the staircase, and I take the first few steps hesitantly. The main door to the outside world is open, and my feet instinctively move faster as if to try for another escape attempt. But I know that would be foolish. After all, I came here to honor my end of a deal I made with Easton.
Did he leave it open to tempt me, to give me an idea of what I’ve lost just to throw it in my face? Or is there some other reason?
“I’m glad you took me up on the offer,” Easton says, standing tall and proud.
“I haven’t yet decided if I want to or not,” I mutter, eyeing him as I come downstairs.
“You came down. That’s all I requested,” he says, adding a cocky but sexy smile. He walks off toward the open door and stays put, staring out onto his property.
He takes a whiff, and says, “Fresh air always smells good, don’t you think?”
I nod when he looks at me. Is he taunting me to try to anger me further? Or is this a test to see if I’ll try to run when the door is open?
“I’m not going to run,” I say.
“Hmm?” He raises a brow.
“Why would I? We made a deal. Ashanti’s life for mine.”
He just looks at me without a single emotion showing on his face. “I know.”
I frown as he walks off into the garden, leaving me behind in the entryway.
I chase after him, halting right in front of the door as if it’s a magical barrier I can’t cross. He’s never left me like this without hooking his arm through mine, without having his guards escort me outside, or without pushing me into a car. I’ve never had the opportunity to decide until now.