Hush (Black Lotus #3)(9)

“Why won’t you let me f*ck you?” I hiss, losing my control and letting frustration and rejection spew out of me. “Answer me, for Christ’s sake!”

My voice strains in temper as she fights against my hold, and I eventually loosen my grip and allow her to break away from me. She stands and stumbles back, fuming in pure anger.

“Is that the problem?” she spits. “Your ego is hurt because you can’t get in my pants?”

I stand and walk right up to her, chest to chest. “You know damn well that if I wanted what was in your pants, I’d take it.”

“Then take it. I don’t give a shit. If that’s all you want, then have it.” Her words taunt, but they infuriate me even more.

“You’re so f*cking blind. It’s not your * I want. It’s so much more than just that. I want all of you. Every piece. I want to be inside of you because that’s the one place you’ll be so weak you’ll have no choice but to hand all of yourself over to me.”

With a slight shake of her head, she looks deep into my eyes, confessing on a whisper, “I just can’t.”

My hands clutch her face and I speak with fervency, “You can. I need you to try.”

“But you have me,” she cries out. “I’m here. I’m not running away.”

“Stop avoiding.”

“I’m n—”

“You’re here,” I break in, cutting her off. “But you’re not really here. You may lie next to me every night, but you’re not really there. You’re somewhere else entirely. Somewhere deep inside that body of yours, you’re hiding away.”

There’s no response on her part, only glaring eyes that expose just how furious she is.

“How many times do I have to tell you to convince you that you’re safe here? That you’re safe with me?”

“Let go of me, please,” she requests in an even tone.

I drop my hands from her face, and she immediately turns and walks away from me without another word, without ever looking back. I don’t say anything to stop her, I just let her go. And before I allow my aggravation grow any further, I too find my way back to the house and up to the third level where my office is.

Needing to relieve my mind of the stress, I busy myself with work. Between phone calls to the office and checking in on my Chicago property, time passes quickly. Lotus is thriving financially and is proving to be one of the most sought after hotels in the city. Exclusivity is key, and that notion is proving itself.

But I can’t think about Chicago without thinking about my father. I haven’t spoken to him since Elizabeth told me about his arrest. Honestly, I haven’t even delved into his involvement with Richard, Bennett, or even Elizabeth’s father for fear of what it might stir up inside me. Elizabeth would deem me a hypocrite, and she’d be right, which is why I haven’t broached the topic with her yet.

So for that reason alone, I call Elizabeth up to my office, and it takes her only a few minutes to appear in the doorway.

“What’s so urgent?” she asks with a hint of agitation that’s leftover from our earlier quarrel.

“Come in.”

She does, finding a seat in front of my desk. I get up from my chair and walk around to take the seat next to her.

“First, I won’t apologize for earlier, except for one thing—I accused you of being afraid of facing your fears when I’ve been doing the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been avoiding my father out of trepidation,” I admit to her. “But I’m putting that aside, hoping you’ll do the same for me.”

Her eyes soften.

“So, can you help me?” I ask and she nods, saying, “Okay.”

“The night I found you, you told me that Richard and my father were working together, using Bennett’s company as a cover for gun trafficking.”

“That’s what Richard told me,” she says.

“You also said that Richard was the one who killed my mum.”

She nods.

With my throat constricting as visions of my mum getting shot in the head flash in my memory, I speak on a strained voice, “I need to know why it happened.”

She holds my hand in hers, taking her time before she says anything. “He told me Cal was embezzling money into an offshore account. Richard said he wanted to teach your dad a lesson that would ensure his loyalty.”

“So my father knew what Richard was going to do?”

With a hard swallow and eyes full of pity, she nods. “He knew. It was why your dad left town. He didn’t want to be there when it happened.”

My breathing falters in unsteady breaths as rage explodes in volcanic measures inside my chest. Every muscle in my body indurates in tension, and I let go of Elizabeth’s hand for fear I’ll crack her delicate bones. I pop out of my chair and it topples over.

“That bastard has spent every day since her death blaming me,” I fume. The blades of each word slicing my tongue, filling me with the blood of putrid hate. “He made me believe it was my fault!”

“No matter how it happened, Declan, it wouldn’t have been your fault.”

I walk over to the window’s edge, grip my hands on the sill, and drop my head as I hunch over. It’s a battlefield of emotions, to which there is no victor. Outrage and fury fight alongside sadness and longing. I’ve mourned my mother the way no man should ever have to, but I did. I’ve allowed the pain to dwell in my heart, embittering it and giving it the power to grow into the man I am today. A man who can’t relinquish an ounce of control without being consumed with unsettling fear. God only knows who I’d be if it weren’t for this manifestation.