Page 41 of Surrender
Get out.
Walk away.
Pretend like this never happened.
Get out.
“No,” I finally managed to state, swallowing hard. “I can’t…”
It took every ounce of willpower I had to turn, lift my foot, and take a single step away from him.
But I didn’t make it far.
Two strong, tattooed arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me clean off the floor.
“Nathaniel! Stop!” I snapped, kicking and twisting in his grip.
Unbothered, he carried me straight into the office and dropped me unceremoniously into a worn leather armchair before striding back to the door and kicking it closed with a loud bang.
My pulse pounded in my chest, and each breath was a little clipped. The familiar burn of unshed tears gathered in my throat, but I swallowed them back, forcing them down.
I squared my shoulders, my narrowed glare following him as he made his way back across the room and fell into the other armchair directly opposite mine, a simple, round glass coffee table separating us.
“You can’t just—”
“I’m not fucking her.” He stated it so casually, like we were discussing the damn weather, then he leaned forward, cupping his hands together and bracing his elbows on his knees.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it.”
I was.
“Melody’s been having problems with an ex,” he explained, staring me directly in the eyes, daring me to try to find a lie in his words. “She signed up to do a couple of self-defense classes at Brawlers, but she wanted to know some simple shit now, just in case.”
This was lesson one on how to feel like a shitty human being—make assumptions.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to walk in here unannounced,” I tried to explain, releasing the breath I was holding. “Whatever you were doing is none of my bus—”
“Darcy,” his voice cut sharply through my rambling. “Just tell me what’s going on. Do you need something?”
I hesitated.
It felt odd, this dynamic between the two of us. Me stepping into his space, instead of him clambering through my window in the middle of the night like he used to, needing a bandage, or a bed, or just a place to breathe. And I never expected anything in return.
That’s just how it was.
But this? This was different.
I wasn’t asking for anything. Right? This was to protect us both. I didn’t want him to think he owed me. The only thing Nathaniel Brooks owed me was an explanation, and I figured that was bound to come sometime soon.
“Parker Carrington. He’s—”
“Your boyfriend,” Nate interrupted, his fingers curling into fists, and while it wasn’t exactly what I was going to say, I couldn’t deny it.
I pressed my lips together for a second and swallowed back the lump in my throat. “You know him,” I murmured, hating the way his relaxed expression had hardened.
“I’ve had the displeasure,” he practically growled, his tonesending a chill up my spine. “What the hell were you thinking dating that bastard?”
