Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)(73)

Seeing her trembling body, coupled with the haunted look in her eyes, broke me. I almost barreled right through the wall that I had so carefully constructed between us by ensuring her that she wasn’t wrong about last night. It had almost been my undoing.

And then at the most inopportune moment, a scene from my childhood flashed in my mind. It reiterated to me once and for all where my horrible sense of self-worth and self-esteem come from. I was sick and home from school—a seven-year-old boy who desperately wanted some of his mother’s love and attention. Peeking through the banister, I watched as her heels clicked along the marble floor as she headed out the door to some charity function. Just as she reached the door, I raced down the stairs to grab hold of her waist. “Stay with me, Mommy.”

Her venomous voice rang in my ears as if she were standing right in front of me. “Rhys, I told you earlier that I do not have time for you today! Go back to Trudie.” Desperately, I clung to her, but she shook me off as she always did. After all, I was always too much of a bother for her to pay any attention to. She stared down at my frail form. “Why can’t you do as you’re told? God, you’re almost as worthless as your sister!”

I had barely been able to make out her face through the blur of my tears. “Don’t you love me, Mommy?” I had asked in a soft voice.

“I could love you more if you weren’t such a nuisance.”

That day my mother had once again broke my already fragile heart into even more unfixable pieces. I toughened up after that, but the hurt was always there. With such a loveless past, how was it possible that I could ever give Allison all that she needed? No, I had to stay strong. I had to keep my true feelings concealed. As much as I wanted to, I could not give in. I had to drive her away once and for all.

Crossing my arms over my shoulder, I asked, “So you were thinking that having angry sex in a club bathroom was supposed to have some underlying meaning besides just f**king?”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. When she raised her hand, I thought she might slap me—I sure as hell deserved it—but instead, she used it to swipe the tear away. “You can say what you want to save face, Rhys, but I know you better than that. It may have started out as ownership, or just sex, but you wanted to kiss me. You wanted me just as much as you had three months ago.”

“Keep telling yourself that, little girl.”

Her face crumpled, and she turned and fled to her bedroom. When the door slammed behind her, I jumped. Her sobs filled the air around me, piercing through my chest like knives. I wished for the moment that she was more like Abby and Mia—that she had verbally berated me for the bastard I was. But no, tears were worse, especially for a girl…or woman like Allison.

Unable to stand the sound of her cries any longer, I fled from Jake and Abby’s suite. I bypassed my room and kept stalking down the hallway. When I got to the elevator, I hit the button for the lobby. Once I got downstairs, I headed straight for the revolving doors that took me out into the city.

Then I began to walk aimlessly up and down the streets. I stopped for coffee and something to eat at a small diner. But no matter how long or how far I walked, one thing was still true. Once again, I’d behaved like an utter ass**le to Allison—a far cry from the gentleman I’d been raised to be. After all, it was only the best for Mommy and Daddy Dearest. But worse than the despicable things I’d said was the fact I’d lied to her. Again. Why the f**k did I keep doing that?

Last night had meant something. Somehow being inside Allison for that short amount of time had once again made me feel complete. But it had f**king broken me when she wouldn’t let me kiss her. In the end, she had been right. I sure as hell didn’t deserve her sweet lips. Because of my jealousy, I’d gone off half-cocked to prove that she belonged to no other man. Then I had been a bastard by refusing emotionally to claim her.

Taking out my phone, I Googled a location that I knew would provide some relief to my suffering. Two blocks over, I slipped inside the darkened room of a strip club. Coming here sure as hell wasn’t one of my finest moments, but I needed to break my three-month sexual fast, even if it was just a small release. I desperately needed something simple and no-strings attached. If I could free myself of Allison, then in turn, I could set her free from me as well.

With a fifty, I motioned over one of the three girls dancing. She was also the only blonde. I sure as hell didn’t want a brunette. With a welcoming smile, she swiveled her h*ps as she came over to me. “Hey, sugar, you want a private dance?”

“Yeah, I do,” I mumbled.

“I’m Sierra,” she said.

“Rhys,” I replied, not even bothering to give a fake name.

Hopping down from the stage, she took me by the hand and led me back to a private room. A stacked bouncer eyed us before we dipped inside the room. She eased me down on the couch. When her hands went up to undo the strings on her flimsy top, bile lurched in my throat, and I felt like I would throw up. “Wait. Stop,” I croaked.

Her hands left her top. One came to rest on my cheek. “What’s the matter, sugar? Is this your first time? You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll take real good care of you.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it. This was a mistake.” When I started to rise off the sofa, she pushed me back down. Instead of slithering across my lap, she sat down next to me.