Page 69 of The Broken Note

Tears are stinging my eyes.

Slowly, his gaze returns to me. It’s sharp. Heated.

“Screw you!” I scream. “Screw you, Dutch!”

His eyes narrow.

“Do you have any idea what I’m going through right now!” I shriek. “Do you have any—” Anger makes me sputter and claw at my throat just to spit the words out. “I already have enough on my plate without you dragging your housekeeper here and wasting her timeandmine! Why should she suffer because of me? It’s my job to clean the classrooms. I will clean. Who cares if I starve in the morning? I will handle myself. I don’t need you to feed me. I don’t need you to throw your wealth in my face. I don’t care about your pancakes or your stupid private chef!”

Dutch rises. The chair scrapes back, making a loud sound.

He stares at me with dark eyes. Viper eyes. Dark and unblinking.

But I’m too frazzled to care.

“You already won!” I yell, flinging my arms. “You ran me out of Redwood. Ibarelycame back. You demanded my virginity as a price. I gave you that too even though I said I wouldn’t! I’m the fool. I’m the loser! What more do you want from me! What more are you going to take from…”

He moves fast. His arms close around my shoulders and he pulls me in for a hug.

“Let me go!” I struggle.

He pulls me deeper into his embrace. His chest is warm. His heart is beating, strong and sure, against my ears.

I lose my battle against the tears when his big hand cups the back of my head and smooths over my hair. When was the last time someone gave me comfort? Why am I so broken that even this beast of a prince can soothe me?

Dutch says nothing, and I’m glad because I’m already embarrassed beyond belief. The tears aren’t stopping. Why won’t they stop?

I’m strong.

I practically raised my little sister and myself.

I kept food on the table. I paid the light bills. After Rick made it clear that we were a burden to him, I didn’t beg him for a cent more.

I defeated Christa and banished her from Redwood.

I kept it together when my mom came back from the dead.

People like me don’t breakdown. We don’t have the privilege of worrying about tears and feelings and emotions.

So why am I crying? Why does my chest hurt? Why does it feel like my heart’s being shattered when I’m fine? I’m perfectly, totally fine.

I feel myself being lifted and pry my swelling eyes apart to see Dutch raising me up. He cradles me to his chest the way he did that night when we were searching for my sister.

I quickly wrap my arms around his neck so I don’t fall.

Without a word, Dutch carries me to the practice room.

The light beeps when he fishes out his card with one hand and slaps it against the scanner.

“What are you doing?” My voice is scratchy. It sounds like I have a cold, but it’s just that my nose is plugged. “Dutch…”

His fingers tighten on me, but he doesn’t answer my question.

Dutch kicks the door shut with his foot and marches over to the sofa where we made out yesterday. I stiffen, wondering if he’s going to try and kiss me.

But he doesn’t.

He sits down with me in his lap.

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