The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(138)

“What’s going on right now? Why are you running away from me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. Of course not,” he said, his voice strained. His gaze bounced everywhere except on me.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” I grabbed his wrist. He glanced at the A Enrique burned into my arm, and then he looked away like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. I snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“What?” he growled, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re right. You didn’t.” I dropped his arm and stood up. “You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” I shook my head. “I get it. Explanations aren’t needed.”

My legs wobbled from disuse and exhaustion as I walked to the bathroom. I lamented my fate, the last three months, meeting Ryker, dating Evan…everything. At that moment, I hated myself. I hated my life. Why did everyone use me and reject me?

“You don’t understand anything.”

“Uh huh. Whatever,” I mumbled.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom to shower.” I peeked over my shoulder. He alternated between flexing and curling his hands into tight balls. Obviously, our relationship had run its course—at least in his mind. He made me all these promises, and now he couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go back to your room and do whatever you were doing.”

“No. Wait. I’ll stay. Let me help you.”

“Not if you’re going look at me like you’re going to be sick.” I didn’t turn around. I kept walking. I didn’t want to see the pity or disgust flashing across his face like a neon sign.

His arms circled my waist and he dragged me against his chest. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My body battled with my mind. My body wanted to sink into his embrace and beg him to never let go. My mind wanted to fight him, scream at him, and curse him to hell.

“The look on your face says it all, but I don’t get it. Even Noah was more compassionate than you, and I’ll probably never see him again. You, on the other hand, can’t run away from me fast enough. You made me all these promises. Promises you have no intention of keeping. Are you going to ship me back to Evan again? Is that what this is about?”

He spun me around so fast, I felt like I had vertigo. “All this is my fault. I should’ve let you go. I should’ve stayed far away from your engagement party. Look at what I’ve done to you.”

“Are you talking about this?” I held up my arm, waving the still pink and puckered letter A above my head.

He swallowed and nodded.

“Well, I don’t give a shit about it. Just like everything that happened over the last few days, it will fade. It can be fixed. Everything can be fixed. I only care about us and our future.” I’d spent every moment of the last five days reliving our moments together and dreaming of being with him again and he was pushing me away…again.

“You’re right,” he murmured, guiding me into the bathroom by my shoulders. “We’ll take this one day at a time.”

He turned on the bath and poured some bath salts into the water. Without meeting my eyes, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and slipped my panties down my legs swiftly and without a comment. Goosebumps kissed my greedy skin, and I swayed on my feet. My soul wept for his touch. His kindness. His love.

The second the bath filled, he tipped his head toward the tub. “Get in and relax.”

For an uneasy second, I stared at his face, willing him to see me…really see me. I wanted him to tell me he still loved me. I wanted him to promise me we’d have a family and grow old together. Words circled the tip of my tongue like marbles, but nothing came out. I didn’t know where to start.

He sighed heavily and combed his hands through his inky hair. My gaze fixated on the slight tremor. It was the only indication he still cared. Any sane girl would have run away a long time ago. But here I was, exposing myself to more heartache, praying he wouldn’t push me away again.

“Just leave it alone for tonight,” he whispered. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Just get in and let me take care of you. I need to take care of you.”

My shoulder muscles crawled up my neck. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him. Every passing second another emotional door slid shut between us. By tomorrow, I’d need a battering ram to get through to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Please,” he whispered, briefly shuttering his eyes. “Don’t fight me on this.”

A weighty exhalation whistled through my lips, releasing hundreds of unsaid words. He was right. I was tired. I ached. My arm still throbbed.

Wordlessly, I slipped into the bathtub. A moan tumbled from my lips without my permission, and my eyes fluttered closed like butterfly wings. Steaming hot water lapped around my neck. God, this felt amazing. I could sit here for hours.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I rolled my head from side to side without opening my eyes. “No. Noah brought me a plate of food before I fell asleep.”

His feet shuffled on the tiles. “Good. A doctor will be here tomorrow to take a look at your injuries.” He cleared his throat. “And to do an ultrasound.”