Page 40 of Sins of a King
“Abuse,” she corrected. “It was emotional abuse.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It was. And I let it happen.”
“You were a kid when your parents died. The one person who was supposed to offer you comfort and security wasn’t fit to be in your life. I know you think you could’ve done something, but that kind of conditioning is hard to break. Even as an adult. Even as a smart, capable, hardworking, emotionally sensitive adult, it takes time to get over the kind of shit Andrew put you through.”
“I’m worried that I think of Flynn as some sort of…savior. Like he all but rescued me from my evil brother and didn’t take advantage of me. But I don’t know anything about Flynn. Nothing personal because he doesn’t share—and I know I have no right to expect him to share because that’s not what we’re—”
Ash thrust her glass of wine at me. I took it and drank half of it.
“You think too much,” Ash said.
“You’re right. And what Idoknow about Flynn is that he’s not a long-term commitment kind of guy.”
“How do you know that?”
“Did you not hear the part about him not opening up?”
Ash leaned over the table and whispered, “Seriously? The man owns an illegal casino and brothel, and you wonder why he’s not a Chatty Kathy? I love you, but you’re being a little irrational.”
I glowered at her, hating that she made a valid point. The tension diffused when the waiter came back and brought us dessert menus.
“Want to split something?” she asked.
“Nothing chocolate.”
“Yes, I know. You hate chocolate. I remember.”
“What happened with John?” I blurted out.
Ash slowly lowered the dessert menu and stared at me. “We weren’t discussing me. We were discussing you.”
“Your three-year relationship just ended, and you haven’t told me why.”
“I did tell you why—because I cheated on him. The apple tart with vanilla ice cream looks good.”
“Ash, come on. Why did you cheat?”
“Because I didn’t want to marry him.”
“Then why not just tell him that? Why did you—”
“The apple tart,” she interrupted. “You want to share it or not?”
That was it. Ash was done talking about it. For now.
I sighed. “Whatever you want.”
Chapter 12
A few days later, I stepped out of my apartment building and recognized the black Rolls-Royce idling at the curb. It was hard to miss considering the car was a sign of supreme wealth and luxury. It was not an average, run-of-the-mill vehicle. The window rolled down to reveal Flynn’s angular, rugged face.
“Barrett,” he said.
“Hello.”
“Get in.”
“Why? Today’s not our day for a meeting.”
