When she returned to the master bedroom, Lucian was standing in front of the bed with his back toward her. She wasn’t sure what people said after sex, so she quietly walked over to the bed and began climbing onto the mattress. She froze when she saw the expression on his face.
His eyes blazed intensely and stared unblinking. His shoulders rippled with tension and his fist clenched until his knuckles were white. He was furious.
“Lucian?”
His gaze jerked to hers and he practically growled. “Are you hurt?”
Scout took quick inventory of her body. She was sore, but not hurt. She just needed to sleep and she’d probably feel better in the morning. “No, I’m fine—”
“Then what the hell is that?” His finger shot out like a blade and pointed to a dark skid on the light satin sheets.
Oh my God!
Her mouth opened almost as wide as her eyes. Mortification choked her as she looked down at the evidence of her virginity smeared across his expensive sheets.
“I’ll—I’ll wash them.” She quickly began ripping the sheets from the bed. Tears blurred her eyes and she was suddenly being jerked by her wrists in front of him.
“You were a fucking virgin?” The look of complete revulsion on his face when he said the word as if it were a curse crushed her.
She quickly rallied her dignity and got right in his face. “I was.”
He released her arms so fast she practically stumbled backward. Through gritted teeth he growled, “How old are you?”
“What?”
“How old are you?” he roared. “You told me you were twenty-seven. I know that’s bullshit. Your paperwork said you were twenty-two. Is that a lie too?”
She stared at him, just stared.
“Answer me!”
She jumped then quietly answered, “I’m twenty-two years old.”
He shut his eyes and gave a humorless laugh. “A twenty-two-year-old virgin?”
“It’s true. So what? I’m an adult. You didn’t rape me. What’s the problem?” She was growing more self-protective by the minute.
“The problem is I don’t believe you,” he seethed. He was no longer shouting, but she preferred him yelling at her to the icy calm he spoke to her with now. Those whispered words seemed underscored with the creak of heavy walls slamming up between them. The space flanked by them grew, though neither of them moved.
“Well, that’s your problem then, because I’m telling you the truth.”
“When’s your birthday?” he snapped. When she didn’t answer, he glared at her. “Well?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted pathetically. “I was born in the winter twenty-two years ago. I don’t know what month.” He suddenly ripped the top blanket off the bed and marched out of the room. “Where are you going?”
“I’m sleeping on the couch. You can have the guest room.”
Scout didn’t know how to cope with the unexpected pain accompanying this disappointment. He simply abandoned her there as though she was not worth the trouble. Her lip quivered and she blinked rapidly. She felt ashamed and used, but the worst feeling came from his admitted lack of trust.
This was never going to work. She was leaving tomorrow.
She didn’t cry. There was no point. Her hands worked at removing the soiled linens as her mind replayed his words like some sort of loop of torture. She washed the sheets in the tub, never once letting a single tear fall.
Chapter 16
Gone
Scout left her makeup on the counter of the vanity, zipped her bag and crept out of the bedroom. Stopping at Lucian’s desk, the first place she had met him, she wished she could leave him a note but figured it was for the best that she couldn’t. Approaching the door, she turned and looked back at his sleeping face one last time. His black eyes were watching her.
“Sneaking out?”
Keep it simple. Keep it honest. “I have to go to work.”
“I’ll arrange for lunch to be sent up after your shift,” he said, not bothering to sit up.
Scout nodded. “Thank you, Lucian.” She turned and left.
Work dragged. Her schedule was incredibly light and she suspected Lucian had done something to make it that way. By noon she was dusting the same furniture in the common areas that she dusted that morning. When her shift was over she went to the basement to get her bag and slipped out the back entrance of the hotel.
Paranoia that she was being followed hit her the minute she stepped into the sunlight. Her legs quickly propelled her forward for a few blocks. Blood pumped through her veins, which helped to warm her body, but after she’d traveled about a mile her face was flushed from the cold and her fingers were chilled and starting to chap. She shifted her bag and pulled out her hoodie. After the sweatshirt was over her uniform she continued on her way.
St. Christopher’s wouldn’t be opening its doors for at least five hours. She had a good idea of a few places Parker might be, but she didn’t want to waste any time. She hadn’t seen Pearl in days and her worry had become almost too much to bear.