Page 10 of Razor's Property

“Not a chance in hell, Razor.”

I turn and stalk into the bathroom, locking the door so he can’t intrude on my breakdown. I hate that he still has an effect on me. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of my desire. He deserves my hate. He deserves to be ignored just like he ignored me eight years ago when I walked into the clubhouse and caught him with the girls.

I finally emerge from the bathroom only to find myself wishing I were still locked inside that little room. He’s changed into worn, stonewashed jeans and a white tee. His arms on display. The ink wrapped around every corded muscle, making him look like a bad boy. And I’m stupidly attracted to bad boys even knowing how poisonous they are.

“You hungry?”

His voice is thick with amusement, looking smug over the fact that he just caught me checking him out again. Doesn’t matter. Looks can be deceiving, and I’m already well aware of the asshole who lurks beneath the surface.

“Take me home, Razor.”

I don’t need this in my life right now. I have more important things to worry about than boys. Like not losing my house.

“Pancakes or omelets?”

God, he’s so stubborn.

“I’m not hungry. Now, take me home.”

“Not taking you back, babe, so you may as well eat.”

The hell he’s not. This isn’t a joke. I’m done playing this game.

“They’re going to take my house, Sean. I can’t stay here. I have to go to work.”

“Told you last night, I’ll pay you double, so take a seat and I’ll make you blueberry pancakes.”My favorite.

“I don’t want your blood money, and I’m not a whore.”

“Never said you were a whore. Like I told you, you want to dance for a living, you can dance your sexy little ass off for me. Give me a nightly show.”

He’s not fucking getting it. It’s not just about the money. It’s about not wanting to go down this path with him again. I’ve barely gotten myself patched up. Finally, gotten to a place where I don’t think about him every day, and I don’t want to reopen that wound again. Last night has already done enough damage.

“Take me back, or I’ll walk.”

“You won’t get past me.”

Is he serious? He’s just going to keep me here?

“So, what? You’re seriously kidnapping me?”

“Not kidnapping. Keeping. I’m keeping you, Kens. And this time, I won’t fuck things up.”

Won’t fuck things up?What the hell is that supposed to mean? It sounds an awful lot like he thinks we’re getting back together. Hell would have to freeze over before I ever gave my heart’s fate to him again.

“There’s no way in hell I’d ever be with you again, Sean. Sorry, but you had your chance and fucked it up.”And I barely survived the pain. “You should run back to your sweetbutts because it’s never happening.”

“It’s my biggest regret.” His voice comes out soft, filled with so much pain, and I flinch at the desperate sound. I can’t do this again. I don’t want to hear it. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could go back and do that night over, Kens. I never would’ve left you. I would have stayed at your house and held you all night long.”

No! I need him to stop. There’s a crack forming in the hate, only made deeper when I see the regret glistening in his burden-heavy eyes.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to do this again.” I can’t. At any point he could’ve come and knocked on my door, but he nevershowed up. He went about his life, and I was left to pick myself off the ground and piece my heart back together. And I did. It hasn’t been pretty. It’s been miserable and hard, but I’ve made it through. And like hell I’d let him ride into my life and destroy it again.

“I thought I was doing what was best for you, babe. I wanted you to go off and chase your dreams, but I broke. It got to where I couldn’t breathe, to where I could barely get out of bed, and I needed to see you. I came to beg you to take me back. But when I found you on campus and saw you with some guy, looking happy, I couldn’t fuck things up for you, so I left.”

I’m not sure what he saw or who he saw me with, but I was never happy. Every smile was like lifting a heavy weight, my mind shaking under the strain of the heaviness. And like lifting weights, I believed the muscle in my chest would grow stronger if I kept it up. Kept lifting my cheeks, kept forcing myself to get out of bed and go to class. The friends I made helped spot me through it, but there was never anyone who could replace the man I loved.

If I’d seen Sean, I would’ve crumbled. I would’ve run back to him and begged to get back what we had. But… there was one thing that was never going to change. One thing time could never heal.

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