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Amused. Slightly.
I’ll take it.
I get up and dust the ass of my skirt.
“Did you murder Red with your fucking nail gun, or do I have to shoot her?” he asks.
“She’s in the car.”
She’s also not happy that we made this trip, but Harley, who’s a giant romantic and watches every romantic movie, no matter how bad, said I should come here. So I told Red that I’m going to find Orion. She could come, she could stay, she could shoot me, but I was going. So she came. Harley stayed behind, comfortable that I was in good hands with Red.
Honestly, I won’t be shocked if I come home and she’s picking out terrible eighties-style bridesmaid dresses because she loves to be modern-day ironic.
“It’s not her fault,” I continue. “I told her I was going to get to you, one way or another.”
His jaw tenses. “Go home. Red’s waiting.”
I narrow my eyes, barely holding on to my resolve.
I’m not going to beg. I’m not going to beg, dammit!
“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?”
He breathes out and opens the door. I scurry past him, taking the tiny opportunity.
“To see me?” He closes the door and leans against it. I get the feeling he’s the only occupant in the building. There’s some kind of closed-down store that the three apartments sit above. And he doesn’t seem bothered by people coming or going.
He’s also rich. A rich dude who doesn’t care about the money and its trappings.
Orion folds his massive arms over his chest. “This isn’t a relationship, Dakota. This isn’t flowers and chocolates and whatever the fuck else regular people do. I’m not regular people. I’m fucked up. I live hard. On the edge. You’re a sweet girl who should go be a regular person.”
I fold my arms, too. “Did my father warn you to stay away?”
“I haven’t seen fucking Smith. Him being your actual father is a complication I don’t need. Will that make you go?”
“You’re an asshole,” I say, flinching like he hit me.
Orion rubs his eyes. “My life isn’t a life for sweetness, Dakota. My life isn’t for anyone else. Look what fucking happened when I loved someone.”
I stare at him, shaking my head. He moves past me in the narrow foyer and climbs the stairs. “Red’ll take you home.”
My nose starts to itch as a sudden wave of tears surge and I swallow them, hating how they catch in my throat. Hating him.
But if he wants to get rid of me, he can tell me to my face. The truth. That I’m no longer good enough after those Collectors took me.
There are pictures of me out there.
I mentally shut that down. I can’t do a thing about it. All I can hope is they don’t leak anything out of their circle. Because it’s evidence, those pictures.
I follow him up the stairs, hating the desperation seeping through my insides.
“You don’t want me because of what they did to me.”
He whips around to face me, his keys still in the lock. The door is open a crack as if he was pulling out the keys and pushing it open when I spoke.
“Dakota. You said they didn’t rape you.”
“And that makes a difference?” I ask.
