Page 142 of Unexpected Heroine

He doesn’t answer fast enough, so I rage on. “Your name. Your job. Your past. Okay, fine. I could have maybe overlooked those. Eventually. After all, Shakespeare said it best. What’s in a name? But this? This? Unforgivable.”

My head wobbles in a frantic shake, disbelief and outrage bouncing back and forth inside my skull. “Why? Why? Why?” I stomp my foot, looking every bit the toddler he thinks I am.

Tears pouring now, I look for something to dry my eyes and nose. Whatever fabric is in my hands will have to do. When I pull it away from my face, I realize I’ve just blown my nose on my favorite bra. “Perfect,” I grumble, throwing it on the floor and returning to the drawer to find something else. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Not sure what I’m cussing out at this point. The drawer? My bra? My tears? My nose for having snot?

Myself for being so blind and foolish?

A-fucking-gain!

Never been this angry before. Or hurt. Shocked. Confused.

Wet hens got nothing on me.

He might be trying to explain, but I can’t hear him through the words screeching through my mind.

I chuck off the tank top so I can put my bra on.

A angry feminine voice has my spine stiffening. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Stella. Shit.

I look over my shoulder, confirming it’s her. Having barged into the room, she’s got her fists out in front of her chest.

Ready to defend me.

I finish snapping on my bra and spin around to deal with her. “We’re leavin’. Get your shit,” I announce, making a snap decision. Those are sort of my specialty.

“Holy fuck, Lettie,” Freya gasps, moving close to me with her head lowered and gaze locked firmly on my midsection.

“When the fuck did you get in here?” I ask.

Nonsense question. From a nonsense person.

She frowns, still inching closer. “You weren’t exactly quiet. And holy shit. Your stomach.”

I glance down my body to see what’s caught her attention. Oh yeah. The bruises from where I was kicked.

Ironically, what James has done to me hurts far worse. He dealt the final blow.

Fucking hell. I mean Tomer.

Whoever he is. I don’t know him anymore.

Guess I never did.

The man I loved wouldn’t have hid this from me. I don’t care the reason.

“Oh this? No big deal. Just another asshole man mistakin’ me for a kickin’ can,” I answer Freya, then point at my rib cage. “This one was from a fucker in the nightmare house.” I point at my heart. “While this was kicked right here in this damn room.” I glare at the man I thought was my future and yell, “For an entire fucking year.”

“What did you do to her?” Stella growls at him, getting right up in his face despite being a fraction of his height.

I throw on whatever shirt I grabbed, vaguely noticing how Freya moves protectively in front of me. “Freya, you’re drivin’ so get your keys.” I barrel into the closet to pull out my overnight bag and begin snatching everything I can see that’s mine.

When I emerge from the closet, Tomer’s facing my friends. “Ladies, we’re not done talking. Please, get out.” His voice holds a hint of his Dom side, with threads of desperation woven through it.

Freya glances at me, presumably to see if I want to talk to him. Stella doesn’t bother, not that I expected her to.

Fists to her hips, she juts her chin and plants herself a foot in front of him. “Too fucking bad. She’s packin’ up her shit, so clearly, she ain’t in the mood for a chitchat.”

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