There’s a light burning in her window. She’s still awake. I don’t know what to do now—for once, I didn’t have the next step planned in advance. I want to go up there, but something tells me that would only make things worse. I don’t need her using that expensive new alarm system to bring the cops over.
As it turns out, she makes up my mind for me. I’ve just decided to watch her window, to soothe myself with the knowledge that Rowan is safe and maybe jerk off in the car to relieve my tension when the front door to the building swings open and she steps out. She doesn’t notice me, making a right turn at the bottom of the steps and heading down the sidewalk at a quick clip.
I can’t stop myself from getting out of the car and calling out to her over the hood. “Rowan.”
She stops dead, eyes going round when she spots me coming her way. “Stop. Leave me alone.”
I finish rounding the car but stay back before she can scream and alert a passing driver. “What are you doing, going out at this time of night?”
She blinks rapidly, frowning. “I wanted a pint of ice cream and milk for tomorrow morning. What’s it to you?”
Her flash of anger is a turn-on, honestly. I’d normally warn a woman against talking to me that way but coming from her, it’s refreshing. I don’t even blame her for it. Hell, I’m surprised she even says a word to me. This is better than nothing.
She’s waiting for a response. “It’s not safe for you to walk around at this time of night.”
“I’m going to the corner.” She folds her arms. “By the way, thanks for breaking into my apartment and having that furniture delivered. And the alarm system, very generous. I didn’t ask for any of that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s what you deserve.”
“What about last night? Is that what I deserved?”
“I can make it up to you.”
She snickers. “Come on. Do you know who that sounds like? I’ve heard it before. I’ll never do it again. I’ll make it up to you.” She holds up her hands, backing away. “No offense, but I’m not trying to get myself into the same fucked-up nightmare all over again.”
“It wouldn’t be like that.”
“That’s so easy to say.”
“It’s the truth. I’m not that kind of man. You should know that by now.”
“I don’t know any such thing. You lied to me. You told me what I wanted to hear so you could have what you wanted.” Now she wraps her arms around herself, and I realize she’s shaking. “You haven’t proved you’re a good man. I don’t want to stick around and find out what else you’re capable of.”
“I’ll prove it, then. We can come up with a new arrangement, and you can have a say in it.” I have to hold back before I start babbling like some frantic idiot. She has far too much power over me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m too far gone.
For a moment, I think she might come around. It looks like she wants to. Like she’s fighting with herself because, at her core, she knows I’m telling the truth. Because she wants it to be the truth.
“Rowan. You can trust me.” I reach for her—sure she’ll let me touch her—but she flinches away, shaking her head.
“No. I don’t trust you.” She backs away, farther down the sidewalk. “I need time. Leave me alone, please. I have to think things over.”
“Just tell me there’s a chance. That’s all I need now, to know there’s a chance of us working something out.”
She bites down on her lip, brows drawing together. “I don’t know. That’s the best I can say. I don’t know if there’s any future here.” With one more look, she turns away, walking fast with her head down. For once, there’s nothing I can do but watch. For once, I can’t make another person do what I want.
21
Rowan
My life is so incredibly fucked up. I should stop trying to make sense of it.
I spent one week virtually locked away in Lucian’s mansion, and now I’ve spent the past week locked in my apartment.
All things considered, I’m not sure which place I like better. Sure, his house is ridiculously comfortable and much larger than any one single person needs. I had everything I could ever want or need at the tip of my fingers except for human interaction—though it’s not like I’m getting any of that here, either, with my door locked against the rest of the world.
The bottom line is, I’m afraid. More afraid than I’ve been in a while—hell, even more afraid than I was of Eric sometimes. Eric never used me the way Lucian did. He might’ve hit me, and there were a lot of times I wasn’t in the mood, but he convinced me to go along with it.