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I nod decisively. “Yes. That. Exactly that.”
His eyes narrow. “No.”
I blink. “No?”
“No.” He pushes off the counter to shove his hands over his short hair. “I won’t take my brother’s leftovers.”
Ouch. Again.
Oh, how the man has a way with words.
He’s such a dick.
I push away from the couch to move to the island opposite him, my eyes never leaving his. “My father has gambled away almost all personal assets the Laurier family possesses. We’re drowning in debt, and thankfully, he’s not able to touch Laurier Lines, but the last argument I heard between him and my mother, he planned to sell his shares, so he’d have more to gamble. We were close to losing our home, Cole, when my mother went to Ophelia for help. Ophelia told Abe and Abe told Darius. Darius wasted no time coming to my mother with a deal. He’d fund her life and all the comforts she’s accustomed to—and in exchange, I would marry him.” That muscle is ticking in his jaw, but he says nothing. “I didn’t get a say in the matter, but your dear brother had a few stipulations before he would proceed with marrying me. One was that my purity was confirmed by a doctor of his choosing.” I hold his eyes with a glare of my own as I see understanding register. My cheeks flame. “I’m a virgin. He wanted to wait to make me bleed on our wedding night, as he liked to tell me crudely, and often.” My hands are trembling, so I shove them down to my sides, hidden by the countertop. “Your brother is a sadist with terrifying obsessive tendencies. He liked to tell me about all the ways he’d make me cry when I was finally his. He liked to watch as the blood drained from my face, before commanding me to smile pretty. I might know what it is to be hurt, and often. But Darius is sick, and I’d rather die than be his wife.”
There’s a violent cloud hovering around Cole as he stares at me, his eyes searching for signs of untruth. He won’t find them. Every word I spoke is true, but more, it’s the watered down, more tasteful version of it.
I set my jaw and wait as he processes. Finally, he mutters a curse as he shakes his head in what I can only describe as disgust. Then, he asks, “Why me, Pipsqueak?”
God, I really hate that name. “Because Darius hates you even more than Abe hates you.”
A single brow raises. “I still speak with Darius. Not often, but I speak with him.”
He’s still trying to catch me in that web of lies he thinks I’m weaving.
I hadn’t known Darius stayed in contact with Cole, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Darius is conniving enough to play both sides, appearing the golden boy even though he’s darker than all the shadows that ever crept up from the bowels of Hell, combined.
“Look, Cole.” I get down to business. “I don’t care if you believe me. The fact is that Darius won’t want me if he thinks I’ve been sullied. He definitely won’t want me if he thinks I’ve been sullied by you, and that’s all that matters to me. I need fourteen months, and yeah, I’m asking you to provide for me until then. That means a place to live—because as I’m sure you can imagine; I don’t have a lot of money, and the credit I had access to has probably been cancelled, considering I didn’t show up to my own engagement party.” I lift my hands, relieved to see they don’t tremble. “I have a monthly spending allowance at Laurier Lines my family can’t touch, so clothing and skin care won’t be a burden. The rest of my living expenses—” I break off, swallowing shame I wish I wasn’t forced to choke down. “Of course, I’ll pay you back every cent you lend me over the next fourteen months, as soon as I have access to my inheritance, and…”
The words die in my throat, because I really didn’t think this through. With Charlie the devil on my shoulder encouraging me to run to Cole, I hadn’t even considered he’d be such a hard sell. That his hate for my sister would extend to me when he once looked at me with such affection.
“And?” Cole prompts, arms now folded over his hard, massive chest. His scowl is firmly set in place.
“And…” I wet my lips. “And if I’m here?—”
“If you’re here?”
He’s making this so much harder.
I pull in breath and will the salt from my eyes. If I shed a tear in this man’s presence, I’ll never outlive the shame. Still, I know he sees the gloss in my eyes when his brows dip and his lips part.
I hurry to speak the words I wish I didn’t have to say. “If I’m here, I’m safe. From them all. If I lived on my own somewhere—I’d be alone, and they would come. They’d take me home. I know I’d be beaten into submission, into agreeing to be his wife. But I thought—with you, I hoped I would be safe.”
Something changes in his dark eyes as he rounds the counter to stand close. His voice pitches low as he dips his head. “You have fourteen months. You can stay in the guest bedroom and play at being my piece, if that’s what you want. But don’t fool yourself into thinking I feel anything for you but fucking loathing. The Laurier name is worse than dog shit under my shoe.” I flinch. “So, pretending to be with you, to have you, isn’t going to be easy for me, but I’ll do it for that will—and all the other secrets you’re keeping locked up in there, Pipsqueak.” His voice lowers to a dangerous growl that has chills skating over the length of my spine. “But don’t lie to me. I know exactly what kind of parents William and Remira were, and to allude that they ever laid a single hand on you is—” He doesn’t finish as he pushes away to spit, “Ophelia was coddled, pampered. Never once was she struck.” He smirks, but there’s nothing nice about it. Nothing kind. “Maybe if they’d raised her with a little authority, she might not have turned out to be such a backstabbing, disloyal whore.”
Okay. Wow. I know he’s angry, but—wow.
He doesn’t believe me. The first person I’ve ever told aside from Charlie, how Remira hurts me and—hell, I didn’t even tell him how she hurts me—I just alluded to it as he’d said—and he doesn’t believe me.
Then to go and say that maybe if they’d hurt Ophelia, she wouldn’t have turned into who she became. I don’t even know what to think. Because it’s that exact excuse Remira gave me every single time she hurt me. That she wasn’t making the same mistakes she made with Ophelia. That there were lessons I needed to learn. That she would teach me to be a lady, even if she had to beat it into me.
And the times she accused me of acting a whore—I just can’t.
A little more of the affection I’ve held so long for this man frosts over, and I give him one curt nod.
“I’m happy we’ve come to an understanding. I’m tired, if you could show me to my room now, that would be so great.” My voice cracks on the last word, but I twist my face away from his so that he might not see all the emotion I’m not capable of containing right now.
“We’re not even close to coming to an understanding, Pipsqueak.”
