Page 38 of Bride By Initiation

His voice turns stern. "What did they promise you?"

I bite my lip to keep from speaking.

He drags his knuckles down the side of my arm, and I shiver. He murmurs, "Do you think they'd take a girl like you and not have any plans for you?"

The binder in my drawer pops into my mind, and I glance over at it.

Sean freezes.

My pulse pounds between my ears.

"Why did you look over there?" he questions.

"No reason," I lie, but it comes out flat.

He stays planted against me, then turns his head, assessing the room.

My heart races so fast, I think I might faint.

He releases me and races toward the drawer.

"Sean!" I cry out.

He doesn't stop. He yanks the drawer open, then goes still.

I chase after him, dropping the beer on the carpet, but I'm too slow to react.

He grabs the binder, flips through it, and his face pales, then turns bright red. He gets through several pages and then sets it down. Horror fills his expression.

My voice cracks. "It's not what it looks like."

In an angry voice, he admits, "I'm not sure what this is, but it's nothing good."

I grab the counter to steady myself, focusing my gaze on the pattern of the stone, unable to look Sean in the eye. Shame fills me, and I don't know why. I've not done anything wrong, but the disappointment in his expression makes me feel like I have.

He softens his tone, ordering, "Tell me everything, Zara."

Tears fill my eyes. I want to so badly, but the promise of things I don't even know really exist keeps me from it. The quartz under my fingers turns blurry, and I reply, "I'm sorry. I can't."

Silence builds between us, and it tears at my heart. I still can't look at him.

He finally warns, "Last chance. Tell me, and I'll make sure you're okay."

For some reason, I laugh. It's emotion-filled, crackling with tears.

He barks, "That's funny?"

I stop laughing and force myself to look him in the eye. I shake my head and declare, "It's hard for you to promise you can make sure I'm okay when you don't even know what it is your father was involved in."

Hurt fills his sharp features. His eyes turn to slits. He glares at me until I feel like I'll melt into a puddle on the floor. Then he turns and goes to the door. He reaches for the doorknob.

I blurt out, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for my statement to hurt you."

He huffs. "Sure you did. But don't worry. From here on out, you're on your own."

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