Page 122 of Feed Your Fiends

“I don’t just mean about the car. I mean, for letting me back into you. Into your heart and soul.”

She tenses before ducking her head beneath my chin as the lift opens into the penthouse.

“I didn’t let you. You were always in there. I never managed to get you out…are those Bae’s keys?” she asks, and I know she’s just trying to change the subject. Still, I look at the bench where Zoi’s keychain glares up at me angrily. On the other side, he’s smiling maliciously.

“He moved into the unit just below me.”

“Oh.”

“Elle?”

“Hmm.”

“Have you forgiven me?” I tug at her nape, forcing her to look up at me. “No lies, no secrets, remember?”

It takes her a second to answer, and my heart squeezes in anticipation.

“I’ve accepted you for who you are.”

And that isn’t enough.

Her earlier words, her demands for forgiveness from the hospital, play in my ear, and I squeeze her tighter as we slip into our bedroom.

“Have you thought about tomorrow? About the cricket match.”

“You want me to see you swing a bat that bad? Don’t worry, seeing you prance around in tights is masculine enough for me,” she teases, but we both know what question she’s avoiding.

“You’ve already seen me swing a bat. You cried and screamed and pleaded for me to stop, but you know we can’t, not until the finale.” I slide my fingers from her ass, to her still dripping slit, and she jumps, sliding to her feet right as I enter the bathroom.

I don’t miss the pinch of her lips to stop a smile as I cut the shower on.

“I want you to come. Aria and Stassi will be there.”

A flicker of excitement crosses her features, but then it’s gone just as quickly. “And the Parrishs?”

“And the Auclair.” Just one.

“So Bart’s still coming into town?”

“You still don’t want to meet him?”

Steam drifts between us as she stares up at me, her lip trembling. “He tortured Jarett for two years. How long did you know that he had him?”

“After the play, when you were rushed to the hospital. That’s when Bart showed up. He gave me Jarrett.”

“Do you know what Bart did to him?” she asks hesitantly, and something tells me she doesn’t really want to know.

I shake my head. “I sent him into the wild with Zedd. Into the Watering Hole. He does well in old places. He was happy to have a beer, and then Jaime did the rest.”

“Zedd?” she asks incredulously. Her knees give out as she searches for a place to collapse, but I’m right here.

I scoop her into my arms again and lead us to the bench in the shower.

“Tall, blond,” she mutters but doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push.

“And then you gave him to Jaime?”

“Yes.”

---