Страница 310 из 349
“And I should know better.” She moves in front of me, walking backward to keep up. “I’ve lived with the same scrutiny since my father disappeared.”
“Then why do you do it?” I snarl. “Why the fuck do you keep blaming me for what Luther’s done?”
She stops, forcing me to do the same. The answer lingers in her eyes. She knows exactly why; she just doesn’t want to tell me.
“Fucking say it, Nissa. Why hold back now?”
“Because I want you to be guilty,” she admits. “I want a reason to hate you, because then I wouldn’t feel the way I do.”
“What way?” I snap. “How the fuck do you feel?”
She lowers her gaze.
“How do you feel?” I grab her chin, demanding her attention. “Tell me.”
“Confused,” she rasps. “I feel completely and utterly confused.”
“About me being guilty?” I glare. “Nissa, I’m no knight in shining armor. That’s a foregone fucking conclusion. You know that. But I stand apart from my father. I’m not him.”
“I’m not talking about Luther.” She winces and yanks away from my hold. “I’m confused about how I feel for you. About how I feel when I’m around you.”
Fuck.
That’s not where I thought this conversation was headed.
Not even close.
She wipes her hands down her face with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that. See, I’m not thinking straight.”
“This type of situation doesn’t breed clarity.”
“Just tell me one more time. Help me understand what my father did.”
I shouldn’t. I already regret what I’ve told her, and tearing open old wounds is the last thing she needs. But again, I can’t fucking deny her. “Your father hired a hitman to protect you and your mother. He never worked for my family, Niss. And I’m sure he wouldn’t have taken the path he did if the Bureau would’ve given him the help he needed. But all he did was try to keep you safe. He just didn’t have the money to pay for what was done, because that shit don’t come cheap.”
A weary sigh escapes her. “Okay.” She nods, coming to terms with the information while she sweeps the bombshell of her feelings about me under a metaphorical rug. “Thank you.”
I keep my distance, not wanting to trigger any more mind-numbing conversation.
I’m done. Fucking drained.
“You need to get ready.” I tilt my chin toward the house. “Take a shower. Pack your things. And grab some pain relief for the plane.”
Tylenol won’t help the heartache, but she’s going to need something once the adrenaline clears her system and all that remains is the agony of her injuries.
“Are you coming?”
“Soon.” I pull my cell from my jacket pocket. “I need to call the pilot to set the ball rolling.”
She nods, seeming entirely defeated. If her expression was a torture technique, I’d spill all my secrets to make her misery stop.
“Go.” I jerk my head again. “I’ll come and get you when it’s time to leave.”
“Okay.” She continues toward the house, her bare feet crunching on the path.
Relief doesn’t come once she’s out of sight.
The toxicity in my veins only increases.
For once, I feel like the monster she accuses me of being. The weight behind my convictions grows weak. She’s fucking poisoning me.
“Jesus Christ.” I swipe a hand through my hair.
I can’t have her.
This woman isn’t capable of being the docile puppet I need at my side. I don’t have time for complications. Or issues of integrity. All I want from a partner is a place to shove my dick, and Anissa is above and beyond that.
Above and fucking beyond.
I keep a hand fisted in my hair as I dial the pilot’s number. I clench my teeth as the call is left to ring on a continuous loop until the message service cuts in.
I disco
“Mr. Torian, I’m sorry I missed your—”
“Meet me at the airport as soon as possible. We’re leaving. I only need to pack my things and we’ll be on our way.”
“Sir…”
I close my eyes at the hesitation in his voice. “Thirty minutes, Jefferson. I swear to God, if there’s a holdup, heads will roll.”
There’s a pause.
A blatant issue.
“What is it?” I growl. “How long is it going to take to get us in the air?”
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s going to be a while. I’m about to land in Portland. I need to touchdown and refuel. I’m at least fourteen hours away, and that’s if I fly straight back.”
“You’re in Portland?” I clench the cell in my grip. “Why, for the love of fucking God, would you go back there?”
“Your sister, sir. I was told to pick her up. She said you approved the plans.”