Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“You don’t get it,” she cried, sounding distressed.
Shit. Should he just give her what she wanted? The last thing he wanted was to make her feel worse. All he wanted right now was to take care of her.
But surely it was crazy to put makeup on right now?
“Then tell me. Tell me how you’re feeling. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
She attempted what he thought was a smirk but ended up being a grimace. “Don’t know what you mean, darlin’. There’s nothing going on except that I need my makeup.”
He shook his head. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” She should, right?
And he’d need to control his temper as she did. Because this wasn’t about him.
It was all about her.
“No!” she said sharply. Then she sighed. “Sorry, but I had to talk to Jake about it and I’m talked out right now. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to do my makeup.”
He paced up and down the bedroom. “Damn it. I want to help you.”
Her face softened. “You are helping me.”
Renard shook his head, frustration riding him hard. “No! I’m not. I can help you physically, but I can’t help you with the stuff in here,” he pointed to his head, “or here,” he patted his chest.
“I don’t need help.”
“Opal, baby. You were kidnapped, you were beaten and held against your will. Terrorized. That leaves a mark on someone.”
“I’m tough.”
“Nobody is so tough that they can just power through that. It would leave a mark on anyone. Talk to me, baby,” he pleaded.
“I . . . I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Just let me in.” He turned and walked swiftly closer, raising his hand to brush his fingers through his hair in frustration.
The flash of fear on her face was enough to have him stumbling backward.
Fuck!
Fuck what was he doing?
Why was he pressing her like this when she obviously wasn’t ready to talk?
He knew that Stefan had treated her badly, that she had lived through something horrific.
Yet, she hadn’t shown any sign, not once, of being scared of him.
She went to the club, she had scened with strangers, she’d played up until he’d spanked her.
And she hadn’t shown fear.
But now . . .
Her barriers were lowered. Her defenses down. And he’d just moved sharply toward her after she’d been kidnapped and beaten.
He was the worst type of person . . . of man.
You don’t fucking deserve her.
What do you know about protecting something precious?
He could see how fragile she was under her bravado. She needed a delicate touch, not a bulldozer.
Fuck.
Fuck!
“I’ll leave,” he said in a quiet voice, backing up slowly so he didn’t upset her again. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“What?” she asked, gaping at him.
God. When he looked at what that asshole had done to her, he wanted to puke. He wanted to take her into his arms and keep her safe. He wanted to burn the whole fucking world down just to protect her from anyone who might seek to harm her.
But what if the one person she was scared of was him?
Fuck!
He’d thought that he was capable of taking care of her. Obviously, he’d been fooling himself. Here he was bulldozing her into trying to open up to him.
“I . . . fuck, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m going to leave. You don’t have to worry about me scaring you or upsetting you. Okay? I just need to contact Lilac and Tanner. They’ll come and take care of you. I’ll need to wait until they get here, though, because you can’t be alone . . . I can’t leave you alone. But they’ll be here soon and they will take care of you.” He turned away before he did something stupid like go to her and beg her to give him another chance.
Someone like him didn’t deserve a second chance.
He didn’t deserve to be happy.
He should have died that day . . . why hadn’t he died that day?
“Renard! Renard, please!”
He walked into the living room. Where the fuck was his phone?
“Renard.” Her voice cracked. Wait, she sounded too close. He whirled to find her right behind him.
She flinched again, stepping back.
Fuck. He was messing this up so badly. It was no wonder she couldn’t trust him.
“Opal, what are you doing?” he said as softly as he could manage. It wasn’t easy. “You shouldn’t be up and about. I didn’t even know you were behind me. I could have accidentally knocked you over.”
She was in no state to get out of bed.
“Then you would have just picked me back up,” she told him. “Or I hope that’s what you would have done.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. A tear dripped down her face and alarm filled him. “Opal, are you in pain?”
“Why am I Opal?” she asked.