Dominated (The Enforcers 2)

What the hell was wrong with her? This was her opportunity to take him apart verbally just as he had done to her. To rip him to shreds and destroy him every bit as much as he had her. To give him a taste of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of . . .

Hatred.

She dropped her face into her hands as a shudder rolled violently through her body. Oh God, oh God. She was sounding—acting—just like him.

Tentative hands skimmed up her arms, hesitant as though Drake feared rejection. But hadn’t he already rejected her? She hated mind games. Why had he come after her? Why was she in his car? He’d washed his hands of her. He’d made that clear enough. So why the elaborate charade?

Her head ached vilely but not nearly as horrifically as her heart.

“What do you want, Drake?” she asked in a low voice. “What will it take for you to leave me alone—in peace? Surely that isn’t too much to ask. I’ve had to come to terms with how very wrong I was about you, but I didn’t think I could possibly be this wrong. That you would derive enjoyment from my emotional pain.”

She stared through her tear-filled vision to meet his agonized gaze, determined to stand her ground.

“I get that you’re done with me. You made that very clear. But are you truly going to embarrass and humiliate me just because you can? So you can physically and emotionally abuse me again?”

So wrapped up was she in her impassioned plea that it took her a few seconds to realize that Silas and Maddox had exited the car, leaving her alone with Drake. It shouldn’t have felt like yet another betrayal from people she hadn’t anticipated it from, but it did. And it shouldn’t have hurt. But it did. Drake’s men owed her nothing. Their loyalties lay with him. What was she but yet one more woman Drake had amused himself with?

Slowly, as if fearing her rejection—well, that made two of them in the same boat—Drake reached up to gently cup her chin, holding it in place so she was forced to hold his gaze when she would have dropped it, giving in to despair.

“Angel, listen to me. Please.”

She went utterly still because this wasn’t a side of Drake she’d ever before witnessed. Humble. Upset? And dear God, he sounded precariously close to begging.

His thumb stroked across her cheek in a tender pattern, his eyes drenched with the same welling emotion that she felt in her throat.

“What do you want?” she whispered, her voice breaking with the strain of her heartache.

“You. I want you. Only you. Always you.”

She flinched and would have reared back, but his other hand went to her shoulder to restrain her and hold her in place. Her breath stuttered out as though she couldn’t make her lungs cooperate and breathe for her.

“No, don’t. Listen. Just listen.”

She bit into her bottom lip, refusing to shed another tear over this whole messed-up situation.

“There is so much I need to say to you. I need to explain. I don’t deserve your understanding and I damn sure don’t deserve your mercy, but if it were possible, I’d be on my knees in front of you right now begging for one chance to make things right. Come up with me so we can talk. So that I can give you what should have already been yours—what is rightfully yours and already belongs to you. I know I’m not worthy of your consideration. I know. But at least let me explain and try to make you understand. I’m not demanding any promises from you, but I can give you my promise. If you still hate me, if you still can’t stand the sight of me, if you never want to see me again after I’ve told you everything you need to know, then . . .”

He broke off and drew his hand away from her shoulder to run it raggedly through his hair. It was then she saw a startling revelation in his eyes. If his hand hadn’t already been curved around her chin guarding her mouth, her hand would have flown to her lips to stifle her gasp of shock.

He was afraid.

“Then what?” she asked in a low voice, her lips trembling against the firmness of his fingers.

“I’ll let you go,” he said in a lifeless voice.

He said the words as if he’d just been handed a death sentence. And she didn’t understand any of this. The whole thing.

“You already let me go,” she said dully.

“No!”

Rage sparked in her blood and rushed through her veins until she was dizzy with it.

“Yes. Oh yes, you did, Drake.” She sent him a scornful look that conveyed precisely what she thought of his method of farewell. Then she shook her head. “No, I guess that isn’t true either. You didn’t let me go. Letting someone go implies an act of kindness. A noble gesture. You threw me out like I was no better than garbage!”