Page 153 of Sins of a King
Shame coated my cheeks. “I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but yes, I knew he was going to touch me. I didn’t know he was going to break my finger.”
“Did you know you were going to like it?”
The shame intensified and a ball of regret settled in my stomach. I dropped my gaze to my lap.
“Barrett? Answer me.”
“No,” I whispered. “I swear I didn’t know I’d like it.”
Flynn was quiet for so long I finally dared to look at him. There was an undistinguishable look on his face, and I hated that I couldn’t read him.
“Do you—do you want a divorce?” I forced the words out, hating the ugliness of them.
“Nothing has been resolved with the FBI. Ever since your disappearance, it’s been nothing but a waiting game.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” I dreaded his response. In doing everything I could to get back to Flynn, I might have lost him.
“Tell me what happened,” he commanded.
“When?”
“When you were with Dolinsky.”
“Why didn’t you come after me?” I fired back instead.
He frowned. “Come after you?” He raised his voice. “There was no way to find you! Even Duncan couldn’t find your trail.”
“You’re telling me,” I asked in disbelief, “the man you call The Tracker, couldn’t find me?”
“Aye. We never stopped looking for you, but Dolinsky had you tucked away so thoroughly that we—”
“You didn’t think I was dead?”
Flynn paused. “Dolinsky sent…word.”
“He did?”
“Chelsea, he—I’ll spare you the gruesome details—but he said he could do to you what he did to her if we didn’t back off.”
I swallowed the bile that threatened to surge up my throat.
“He sent other messages.” The haunted look returned to Flynn’s eyes. “Little notes. Like how you looked when you slept. What your laugh did to him.”
Nausea continued to churn in my stomach.
“He wanted to torment me.”
“He wanted…” My voice was weak and strained, so I cleared my throat. “He wanted me to fall in love with him. He wanted to tell you I was truly his because he wanted you completely broken before he killed you.”
Flynn looked away, staring at the flames in the hearth.
“Everything I did, I did it so I could come back to you,” I stated. I needed Flynn to believe me. Maybe then I’d believe myself. Dolinsky had reached a part of me I hadn’t known existed, pulling it out into the open.
“You let him touch you. You went along with it.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t fight him. You didn’t try to get away—”
