Page 64 of Crashed
The couple of days he needed were more than likely to cover his ass, in case the asshole Deacon had assaulted spilled his guts and all the nice people he’d introduced her to as his date thought they’d been breaking bread with Deacon’s whore.
The expression on his face when he’d let her walk out of his apartment was stuck in her head.
She’d given him a chance, an opening to admit he cared, and he hadn’t taken it. Because he didn’t feel that way about her. All he felt for her was lust. She was good enough to fuck, but only when it didn’t get in the way of business.
And she’d stupidly gone to him that morning, ready to spill her guts, to yak up all the feelings she’d kept locked in her heart for so long. She’d trusted him. Something she didn’t do lightly.
“Let me go.” He didn’t, he held on tighter.
“Talk to me.”
She shoved at his shoulders. “I said let me the fuck go.”
Every muscle in his body turned to stone beneath her hands. “Jesus. Alex…”
“We’re done.”
He flinched. “What?”
“I said we’re done. Now back the hell up.” She planted her hands on his shoulders and shoved again.
“You don’t mean that. We have a?—”
“Don’t you dare say it.” She shoved again, hands shaking, stomach twisting.
He finally released her, taking a step back. And dammit,
she missed him instantly. “Talk to me, Alex.”
She held his wild gaze, heart pounding. It suddenly hurt to even look at him. “If you try to force this, this messed-up arrangement, I will tell your sisters. You’ll lose them, Deacon, and you know it. As for the business, word about the place is spreading. We’ve had several big jobs come in this week alone, and we’re getting calls and doing quotes for more every day. So your excuse to sell this place, that we’re playing shop, has been shot to shit.”
“Alex,” he growled, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Would you stop for a minute and let me explain?
You don’t understand?—”
“Despite what you think of me, I do understand. I understand perfectly.” He tried to grab her, but she wrenched away, taking several steps back. “Don’t touch me.”
He shoved his hands in his hair. “Sweetheart, don’t do?—”
“Deke!” Piper’s voice cut him off as she walked around the corner. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
Deacon’s gaze didn’t falter; those blazing green eyes remained locked on her. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she moved around him, ignoring the way he growled her name under his breath, and forced a smile.
“Well, I need to get back to work. I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Alex murmured and made her escape.
She saw him drive away a short time later.
The next day seemed to creep by at a snail’s pace and wasn’t made any easier by the constant barrage of calls and texts from Deacon. She’d turned her phone off in the end. No way was she ready to talk to him. She had no interest in whatever bullshit he had to say.
She was ecstatic when she could finally climb the stairs to her apartment and, after a long, hot shower, change into her pj’s and veg on the couch. I will not cry. Not over him.
Not again.
Flicking through the channels, she searched for a show that didn’t have anything to do with love or sex or relationships of any kind. In the end she chose a gory horror flick. “No chance of any lovey-dovey stuff on that.”
The door to her apartment crashed open just as she was settling in. Rusty, with Piper hot on her heels, stormed in, wearing matching pissed-off expressions. They know.
Rusty rounded the couch and slammed a newspaper on the coffee table. “Have you seen this shit?”
