Page 44 of Strike
“How am I supposed to believe that?” I asked. “Am I just supposed to take your word for it?”
“What would you like me to say?” he asked. “I wasn’t the first person she conned. It was her word against mine, and the evidence was stacked against me. A few photographs, a few tears, and all of a sudden, she was a hundred thousand dollars richer, and I was broke. She didn’t care what happened to me. I was destroyed. My reputation, my career, everything. I can’t even get a minimum wage factory job.”
It was my turn to stare at him. It was the most I’d ever heard Mark speak in back-to-back sentences, and I wasn’t sure how to take it. Those sad eyes that had haunted me the night of the fire were back and in full force. Was this his version of broken? Was this his truth? I didn’t know.
“Callie, I would never hurt you,” he went on. “I’m fucked up, but I would never hurt you like that.”
I wished there was a chair for me to sit on because my knees were wobbly like jelly.
“I want to believe you,” I whispered. “But… I went out with Justin tonight.”
His expression fell.
“If the story was a lie, then why did you let me believe it?” I asked. “Why didn’t you say anything when…”
“Because…” He took a deep breath. “Because…”
“Because?” I prodded.
“I didn’t do it, but maybe I deserved the punishment.”
“What are you talking about?” I scowled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I was a jerk. I still am.”
I shook my head, not even knowing what to say to that. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you, Mark.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone else, so I stay away.”
I snorted. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You say you’re pushing people away to protect them, but who’ll protect you? Huh? You can care about other people but won’t let anyone care about you?”
“You sound like Lori,” he muttered.
My scowl deepened. I didn’t know who that was.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me,” I said. “Not outright but by omission. Now you’re asking me to take it on faith you’re innocent, and you’re admitting to hurting people to save them. From what? Being associated with that domestic violence story?” I shook my head. “This is fucking crazy, you know that?”
He lowered his gaze. “I know.”
“So what changed?” I asked. “Why did you come back?”
“I’d given up,” he muttered. “I’ve got nothing, but when I was with you…”
He trailed off, and I waited, my heart jackhammering in my chest. This was the zing I was hoping for all night. The snap, crackle, and pop of electricity that signaled I was attracted to someone. Like a sordid joke, it was a complicated, brooding, messed-up man like Mark. How could I survive this?
“Callie…” he whispered, taking a step closer. “You’ve gotta believe me.”
His chocolate eyes were sparkling. Were they tears?For real?
Before I could reconcile my thoughts, Mark strode forward and pulled me against his chest. When his lips met mine, I wanted to push him away, but I melted. He was the fire, and I was molten metal. His desire bent me to his will, and I was a goner. The trouble was,I wanted him.
His tongue ran along the seam of my lips, demanding entrance, but it was I who forced my way forward. I buried my hands into his scruffy hair and held him close, kissing him back just as deeply. My body reacted to his, my nipples tightening and my clit aching as his taste overwhelmed me. This was what I was hoping for all night. Justin wasn’t Mark.Thatwas the problem.
His left arm was tight around my waist, the cast feeling strange against my lower back, and his right hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place as his lips caressed mine. What should I do now? Believe his story and give him a chance?
