Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Christian. Let him go. What are you doing?” Siân tugs on my shoulder.
Taj glares up at me with my forearm buried in his throat. “Get off me,” he groans out.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” I whisper as we’re being separated. “Fucking hear me?” I bark.
“Christian?” Siân yells.
Kyla rushes to Taj’s side, checking to be sure he’s not harmed. “Who the fuck is this guy, Siân?”
“I’m sorry.” I blink and peer down at her.
She closes her eyes and nods. “I think you should leave.”
I stare at her, searching her face to be sure she really wants me to. With her eyes, she pleads for me to go. I yank her to me and stare into her eyes.
“You’d never have to beg me to be here for you,” I say, then storm away.
From the corner of my eye, I see Siân’s face contort into an expression laced with confusion. I don’t entertain it, though. Instead, I take the stairs three at a time and hurry to get behind the wheel of my car. I have to get out of here, or else the cops will return for a second time tonight, and this time, they’ll be cleaning up a body.
I peel off into the night, hating that Siân has seen that part of me. Keeping up this charade is important. I need her to trust me if I want her to go with me willingly.
12
SIN
Christian’s parting words leave me confused, and I shove them to the back of my mind to digest later. I stand in the kitchen with Kyla and Taj, both wearing similar expressions of bewilderment. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t just see that guy go batshit crazy on Taj?” Kyla questions, breaking the silence first.
I sigh. “I’m not saying his behavior is acceptable, but he was just trying to help.”
“Trying to help or trying to fuck you?” Taj interjects.
“We’re just friends, Taj, and he was concerned. Plus, you weren’t here. He wanted to make sure I was okay. Is there really any harm in someone trying to be a friend?”
Taj’s features twist, and his lips form into a snarl. “A concerned friend? He just cornered me and told me he would kill me. That’s not a concerned friend. That’s a psychopath.”
Immediately, my defenses are up. Christian wouldn’t say something like that. Taj is merely jealous that Christian was here before he was, making sure I was okay. I look over at Kyla, whose eyes are on Taj. She’s watching him almost cautiously.
My chest heaves as I suck a ragged breath into my lungs. “I think you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” Taj seethes, taking a step toward me. “What is there to be jealous of? I’m your boyfriend, and he’s not, yet he walked in here like he was, and he treated me like I was intruding on something. So, tell me, Siân, was I interrupting something?”
My frustration toward him and the entire situation mounts tenfold, and the walls feel like they’re closing in around me. I squeeze my eyes shut and tip my head back while leaning against the wall. The world is spinning, and I can’t seem to make it stop.
Taj continues to spout off nonsense about Christian and me, but he’s failing to realize the entire reason he was here at all, and that’s what makes me snap.
Pushing off the wall, I walk right up to him and peer into his eyes. “Did you come here to fight with me, or did you come here as a concerned boyfriend who gives a shit? Because right now, all I’m hearing is how you’re concerned that another man was here when what you should be worried about most is the fact that someone broke into our house.”
The words come out in a rush, and I can feel my cheeks heating. I’m almost always the quiet, nonconfrontational type, but I’m tired of being a doormat to a man who clearly doesn’t love me like I thought he did.
Silence fills the small space almost instantly, and I take a step back while watching his features fill with new emotions. Anger, sadness, and fear flicker in his eyes. Okay, so maybe he gives a shit, but obviously not enough to overshadow his own selfish needs.
Agony fills his features. “Look, I’m sorry, Siân. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. It’s just—”
I cut him off right there because I don’t care to hear his excuses. “Just admit it, you don’t give a shit about me. Admit it and save us both the trouble,” I growl, my anger rising all over again. I need to walk away, but I’m so angry. Angry that he’s reacting this way, angry that he’s pointing fingers at me, and acting like I did something wrong when I didn’t.
Can’t he see he wasn’t even here for me? An intruder was in the house, and someone tried to hurt me. No, of course not. All he sees is Christian replacing him, even though he isn’t.