Page 65 of Prey

“I didn’t know you back then. I was just doing what I thought was right. You think I like being in that situation? You think it’s fun for me to listen to you kill a man, scared shitless out of my mind that you might have seen me and I would be your next victim? You think it’s fun to know that the King’s Men MC was gunning for me, and the only reason I was safe was that I thought my identity was being kept a secret. Apparently not secret enough because I was still being fucking hunted down!”

He smirked and stood up. I backed away when he took a step toward me.

“And yet, you are the one who was free for the last two years. You went on with your life while I fucking defended mine in that hellhole.”

“It’s not my fault!”

“Yes,” he said calmly. “Yes, it is.”

I pulled back and looked at him. Really looked at him.

“You’re mad about that. You’re angry at me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“You told me I was safe with you.”

I cried when he cupped my cheek, my heart pounding so hard against my chest that I was afraid I might pass out.

“You are safe with me,” he said. “That doesn’t mean the anger that festered for two years will just go away.”

My bottom lip trembled. “I didn’t know you at the time. I owed you nothing.”

And even though the truth rang in those words, there was still an uncomfortable weight that settled on my chest, and it did not ease up, no matter what I did.

I took a deep breath and let it out quickly. Roman followed the movement with his eyes.

His brown eyes swirled with some unnamed emotion, both fascinating and terrifying to me in equal measure.

“I know,” he said softly.

He squeezed my cheek gently once before pulling back.

I blinked up at him in surprise as he walked back to the bedroom.

My legs could no longer hold me up, and I unceremoniously sank to the floor, my chest heaving with each heavy breath I took.

What the hell just happened?

10

RYLEIGH

I didn’t knowhow long I stayed where I was on the floor, but my legs were starting to get numb, and Roman still hadn’t emerged from the bedroom.

I didn’t know what he was doing in there, but whatever it was, it should be enough time for him to cool off, right?

I stood up on shaky legs and moved toward the bedroom.

Roman was sitting on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge, and his back to me.

I hesitated at the threshold.

I realized then, in our relationship, Roman had always been the first to make a move.

He reached out to me, he initiated almost every kiss that we shared, and now I was standing here, watching him, unsure of what I should do or if he would welcome my touch if I walked over to him right now.

I was more afraid of his rejection than I was of his anger.

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