Page 69 of Degradation
‘Not your fault.’
‘I guess none of us had great teenage years, huh?’
He snorts and says nothing. He’s still turned away from me.
‘So…’ I frown, trying to make sense of what he’s said and how it relates to the coat. ‘I should give you the coat back?’
His jaw sets mulishly. ‘No. It’s not really about the coat, Daisy.’
I move around him so that we’re facing each other and try to hand it to him.
He shakes his head. ‘You love the coat. That’s what I was going for.’
‘I don’t love it,’ I lie.
‘Princess,’ he quirks a brow. ‘You’re literally stroking it with your hand. You love it.’
I look down and see that I am, in fact, stroking my fingers up and down the soft fabric. I stop immediately, scowling at myself in annoyance.
‘Keep the coat, or don’t, but I’m not sending it back,’ he informs me. ‘If you don’t use it, it’ll just sit in my closet collecting dust and I’ll make sure no one ever wears it, so it’ll be a total waste.’
My mouth drops open. ‘But it’s so nice.’
He nods emphatically. ‘So, you might as well keep it and use it.’
‘I’ll pay you back for it,’ I say quietly, wondering how the hell I’m going to do that when I can’t even afford my textbooks. ‘How much is a coat, anyway?’
‘Doesn’t matter. I won’t accept it. The coat was yours as soon as I saw it.’ He steps closer. ‘I knew you’d look good in it, so that can be my payment, seeing you wear it, knowing you aren’t shivering with cold every time you go outside for the next five months.’
‘Okay,’ I whisper, staring up at him. ‘It is a really nice coat. I’ve never had anything like it. Thank you.’
‘There is one other thing you could do for me.’
I nod.
He takes a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me. Frowning, I unfold it and gasp, almost dropping it.
It’s a photo of me at his desk one of the first times I was sneaking around.
‘You could tell me the truth.’
‘Where did you get this?’ I ask, feeling a little faint.
‘During a scan of the house security. I found it by accident. Was that the only time you snuck into my room, gorgeous?’
I shrug out of the scarf, suddenly too hot. I drape it and the coat on the bed, putting the gloves with it.
‘No,’ I whisper.
He steps closer, crowding me against the bed and I sit down on it hard.
‘Okay. So, what were you doing and how many times did you mess with the cameras?’
‘I– It’s hard to explain.’
‘Try.’
His voice isn’t angry. In fact, he sounds calm and not upset at all. Somehow that puts me more on edge.
