Page 51 of Rider Daddies
“You’re askingmewhatI’mdoing here?” I stare at his face. It’s repulsive, which is odd.
Less than a week ago, I adored everything about it. His brown eyes. The mustache, tamed or untamed. It was the way he used to call me beautiful, staring at me with adoration, like I was the only girl that mattered in the world.
He’s staring at me with the same look now.
I seize the opportunity to throw him off, but his reflexes are too fast, gripping my wrist harder.
“You have something seriously wrong with you,” I say.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay in your room.”
“Well, that’s the issue—Idon’tknow what’s good for me,” I scoff. “And don’t give me that look. Don’t act like you care about me. Drop the act. You might as well. I like to think that I can tolerate a lot of things, but there is one thing I donottake lightly, and that’s when somebody has gone out of their way to waste my time.”
“Waste your time?”
“Three hundred and sixty-five days of lies, Tristan! Don’t you dare act confused.” My heart is in my throat. “Tell me. If you wanted to kidnap me and bring me into the trafficking ring, why play the long game? Why not cut to the chase and knock me out like Manual did tonight?”
He stares at me for a minute, brown eyes scanning across my face. I expect him to have a good answer ready that will explain all of this, but instead, he chuckles.
“You think this is a joke?” I ask.
“No, but it’s funny that you think I did all of this because of the ring.”
“What other explanation is there?”
Tristan narrows his eyes, watching me with that same infatuated expression he used to give me every day. Does he think that we’re still together?
Did henothear the part where I called it off?
Finally, his face turns serious. “You confuse me, Lucia.”
“Cry me a river.”
“Here you are kicking up a fuss about what I’ve done, when you were tied up to a table by three outlaw bikers last night. You didn’t move an inch. I didn’t see you shouting in their faces, kicking up a storm.”
“Not everybody is as vanilla as you are, Tristan.”
“Did you fuck them?”
“That’s none of your business. What part of not being together anymore don’t you understand?”
“It’s a simple question. Answer it.”
“I don’t have to fucking answer to you.”
“Answer me!”
“No!” I yell, perhaps a little too loud for the surroundings. “But I wish I had.”
That gets him going. His face twists into something grotesque—jealousy in its worst form. He might as well be green. He clearly can’t stand the thought of me being with another man that isn’t him.
“Why are you being like this?” he asks.
“Cry all you want. If you liked me so much, you wouldn’t have kissed Willow on our wedding day.”
I expect him to make an excuse, but it’s too late for that.
Tristan grits his teeth and grabs the skirt of my dress, pulling me toward him. More paperwork takes to the air, wafting all around us.
