Craving Kara (The Aces' Sons 7)

I looked down at the floor where they were sitting, surrounded by the pile of stuff I’d left there, and my ears started to ring.

They’d found the box.

My skin started to tingle as I stared at all the little notes I knew had been folded, now laying open in a neat pile.

“Baby,” Draco said softly, his voice holding all the things I’d wished for when I’d gone to the clubhouse earlier that day.

Earlier, when I’d made the decision to tell him everything on my terms.

This—this was beyond comprehension.

“How dare you,” I breathed, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said. I could tell by just her words that she was drunk. “We were just going to bring your stuff into your room.”

“And you accidentally unzipped my bag and pulled out the box that was in the very bottom of it?” I asked flatly.

“We—” she shook her head. “Me and Curtis were kind of fighting over it,” she said quickly. “The zipper caught and I pulled and the bag fell and—”

“Spare me,” I snapped.

“It was an accident,” she said, her voice pleading. “I swear.”

“And then you accidentally went through it?” I asked softly. I took another step back.

“She tried to put it back,” Draco said, pulling my attention back to him.

“You made your decision,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “Why the hell would you do this?”

“I was wrong,” he said, getting to his feet. “I went out to find you, but you were already leaving—”

I put my hand up to stop him. The apartment was silent as I reached up and pressed my fingers against my forehead, hiding my face with my hand.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No. Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Kara,” he said gently, taking a step toward me.

“Get out,” I yelled, dropping my hand.

“We need to talk,” he replied stubbornly.

“You—” I was so angry I could barely speak. “You went through my things. You read through my private things.”

“How could I not?” he asked, his hands out in front of him, palms up.

“I don’t even know that guy,” I shouted, pointing at the man who clearly wanted to be anywhere but standing inside my apartment while I lost my shit.

“I didn’t look at your stuff,” he said quickly.

“Great,” I snapped. “I feel so much fucking better.”

“You didn’t say shit,” Curtis said, finally breaking his silence as he stared at me. “You were gettin’ those and you didn’t say shit.”

“Oh, fuck you,” I replied, sneering at him. “You made it clear you didn’t want me anywhere near you. Fuck you and your blame shit.”

“I don’t even remember it,” he said, leaning forward at the waist.

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” I yelled. “Get out!”

Charlie was still sitting on the floor between us and she flinched when I yelled, then frantically reached for the stack of letters.

“Don’t touch them,” I snapped. I fell to my knees and practically shoved her out of the way, grabbing fistfuls of the box’s contents and stuffing them into the backpack.

I hadn’t seen the words in years. I’d stuffed them in the box and put them away and refused to look at them again. But, the minute I saw the familiar handwriting, the same nauseous feeling and skin tingling fear that someone was watching me swept over me from head to toe. I shuddered. My hands started to shake as I zipped the backpack closed.

The room was silent.

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie said, putting her hand on my back. She dropped it when I glared at her. Her betrayal was worse. I’d trusted her more than anyone else on the entire planet and she’d let them look through my things.

“You’ve chosen your side,” I said flatly. “Either you move out or I do. Maybe you can move in with Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

Charlie’s mouth tightened and her eyes filled with tears.

“That’s enough,” Draco ordered. He reached for me.

“Don’t touch me,” I snapped.

My words didn’t stop him. He pulled me to my feet and ignored the way I shoved at him as he threw me over his shoulder.

“Clear out,” he ordered the rest of the room as he stomped toward the hallway.

I pounded on his back and kicked my legs. When that didn’t work, I pinched any skin I could reach as hard as I could.

“Stop it,” he ordered, slapping my ass. “Jesus.”

When he dropped me onto my bed, I came up swinging and just barely missed him as he jerked backward.

“Get out,” I screamed, pointing at my bedroom door.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shouted back.

“Yes, you are,” I gritted out. “Get out.”

“You want to be with me?” he asked, frustration making the words come out hard.

“I don’t even want to look at you,” I hissed.

“You’re mad,” he replied. “Fine. You want to be with me?”

“Get out.”

“Doesn’t matter how many times you say it,” he shot back, slamming the door closed. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”