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I left without saying anything else, tense, on edge, and much to my surprise, wondering if Kayla had waited like I’d told her to.
There were a million other things that should have been occupying my attention.
But for some reason, the only thing I wanted was to see her.
I didn’t know why, or at least I didn’t want to think about why.
At the very best, she would piss me off, and I knew the worst would leave me enraged and primed to kill.
But even knowing that, the need to see her was undeniable.
Which I despised. Still, I understood exactly what this was.
Kayla hated me, hated what I made her do, and I knew that.
But, as insane as it was, I also trusted her.
How fucked up was that?
My father was out of prison, but all I wanted was to be with her. Because I knew my father had motives and plans, plans that probably would not benefit me in the long run.
Still, I should have trusted him more than I did Kayla.
I didn’t.
I opened the office door and found Kayla leaning against the wall staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The shades were drawn, but she could still see out, and I watched her for a moment as she watched the city.
Tried to understand the relief I felt now.
I was still on edge, but seeing her gave me an ease, a relief, that I still didn’t comprehend.
Had started to fear that I never would understand.
When I looked at her, I wouldn’t be able to point out anything about her appearance that I would call special or irresistible.
But the way I felt when I was with her was special.
And I fucking hated it.
I knew that as dangerous as I was to her, she was so much more dangerous to me, and I was suddenly irritated at the thought that Kayla might have more power in this relationship than I wanted her to.
Relationship?
This wasn’t a relationship.
It was a transaction, and that didn’t change because I was stupid enough to think I trusted her.
All that mattered was that she did was she was told and paid her debt.
Nothing else.
And I would not let myself forget it.
“Your father had a lot to say, I guess?” she said.
She still looked out at the city, but I knew her question wasn’t a question at all.
