Dollars (Dollar #2)(53)

From Elder at least.

I picked at the scabs in my mind from everything Alrik had done, hoping to see if perhaps, one day, I could tolerate more than just a kiss from a man who hopefully might earn my trust. But the minute I thought of naked bodies and entwined thrusting, a cold sweat drenched me; a panic attack snaked through my desire, turning it into rancid sickness.

I gulped at the suddenness of how something so desirable could turn into something horrific.

Elder spun around, dropping his hands. “I didn’t mean—” His arm came up.

All I saw was pain. I cringed, taking a step back.

He stiffened, looking from his me to his arm. Accusation and disappointment replaced whatever attraction remained in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to hit you.” His nostrils flared. “Fuck, what the hell happened between us? You fell, I caught you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you I was doing my best around you, Pim, but Christ you felt good in my arms.”

A swarm of locals cascaded around us like a swiftly flowing river around a boulder in its path.

Elder didn’t notice. “You didn’t fight me.” His voice lowered. “You responded. You wanted me to kiss you. Are you going to stand there and f*cking deny it?”

I looked down, rubbing my arm as prickles raced over my skin.

“You wanted me, yet now you look as if I was about to bloody rape you. You’re still afraid I’ll hurt you, even now?”

I couldn’t fill my lungs. My heart tightened itself in a rusty metal thumbscrew, making me hiss in pain.

I’m afraid of myself.

Of what irreparable damage that bastard did to my body.

His head lowered, blocking the sun and casting heavy shade over me. The symbolism of standing in the shadows wasn’t lost on me. I’d been in the shadows for years. How the hell did I think I could live in the sunshine without getting burned?

“Goddammit, you frustrate me.” Glowering as if he’d expected better from me—as if he could snap his fingers and have me sing for him and kiss him and be cured by him—he dragged a hand through his hair and stormed off.





ONE WORD.

Fuck.

Two words.

Motherf*cking Christ.

Three words.

I’m f*cking screwed.





THE DUST EDDIES left by his shoes captured my attention.

He left.

He stormed away without Selix to watch me, guards to corral me, or leashes to hold me.

The chemistry between us snapped away—partly buried by the brutal history I couldn’t shake but mainly due to the freedom that suddenly opened up all around me.

I’m alone.

My heart looked up with binoculars.

I could run.

My lungs shed its sticky fear, demanding oxygen, feeding my legs in preparation of a sprint.

I could vanish.

I could hide.

I should run in the opposite direction.

My eyes locked on Elder as he continued to stalk away. He didn’t look back. Did he want me to run? Was this a test? If I did run, would he chase me? And if he did chase me, how far would I get thanks to my battered body and ill health?

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was to attempt to flee—to create a scene, to hopefully get the police involved.

To let people know I’m still alive and ready to go home.

Beneath the scintillating idea of running, guilt slowly bubbled.

Guilt at leaving without a thank you or explanation that it wasn’t him I ran from but the captivity he wanted to keep me in. Regret at leaving whatever connection had budded between us.

He freed you from agony. He killed Tony and broke Alrik into pieces ready for you to deliver the finishing bullet.

I bounced on the balls of my feet.

So what?

Yes, he’d helped me. Yes, I would always be grateful. But he’d done it for his own gain, not mine. When Tony had bashed in the door with a baseball bat and Alrik pressed a gun to my temple, he’d almost let them kill me.

He’d contemplated it far longer than someone who didn’t have darkness in their soul would.

Strangers milled around me, their soft conversation threading with my thoughts in a wash of deliberation.

Go.

You might not get another chance.

But then Elder turned.

His elegant body twisted to face me, his eyes latching onto mine down the street. Enough metres separated us that I could still run. I’d get a decent head start.

Go…

The command whispered with authority, surging down my leg.

Elder froze as my left foot moved backward, deciding it wanted to gamble on running, that it wanted freedom.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t move, but he knew. He knew I was moments away from bolting. Instead of moving to face me fully, to prepare to chase, he merely rolled his shoulders and dug one hand into his jeans pocket.

The other, he brought up, rubbed his mouth, then splayed it open; encapsulating the busy market around us, the steaming sunshine, and the wide-open world I could disappear into.

He gave me his approval.

And then he waited to see what I would do.

My body swayed backward, taking pressure off my right foot to join my left in retreat. However, as the sandal disengaged from the hot concrete, I stumbled forward instead.

Despite every instinct yanking me down the street and into the cobblestone alley to a sanctuary I didn’t know, I found myself walking to the beast I was beginning to understand.