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Eric rolled his eyes. “It’s easy to see you’re going to be an idiot.”
Tears were rolling down Tiffany’s face. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this to us. Please let me help you.”
He knew how to manipulate her. She’d learned how to deal with him; well, he’d done the same with her. He could use her nature against her. “I’m not moving until you leave. I’ll sit here and bleed out on this floor if you don’t go away, Tiffany.”
Her face went beet red, her eyes flaring with pure hurt. Yeah, he knew where to stick the knife in. She got to her feet, taking a step back. “I’m going to ask one more time, Sebastian. Please don’t do this.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” He wasn’t going to let her see him like this. Not broken. He would rather she hated him than pitied him.
She shook her head, wiping away her tears. Her jaw hardened and he could see the stubborn will on her face. “Have it your way, Master.”
She turned and walked out.
And he was left with a gaping wound that was never, ever going to heal.
Chapter Eleven
Tiffany paced the dining room floor, her whole body vibrating with a mixture of rage and fury and a little bit of worry, and then more rage.
How fucking dare he.
Her lion was roaring. Now she knew what Beauty had felt like when the Beast had gotten pissed.
Stubborn man. Stupid man.
Was he all right? She knew he’d made it to the hospital. Eric had told her what he thought was going to happen, but she hadn’t heard since then.
Her cell trilled and she looked down. There was a text message from Javier.
He’s with the doctor now. Eric’s staying with him. I’ll come back and help move you out.
She frowned. Did they all think she was some wilting flower of a sub?
Not necessary. I’ll handle things. Thanks for taking care of him.
“Hey, I heard something happened with Sebastian.” Ally rushed across the dining room, her arms full of packages. “I’m dropping off some tools for the new pastry chef. Macon’s coming in behind me. Is Sebastian all right?”
Sebastian was maddening. Sebastian was mean. He didn’t deserve her normal sunny and happy persona. Not a bit.
“He’s an asshole, but I think he’ll be fine.”
Macon strode in, carrying a large standing mixer, which he sat on one of the tables. “Eric called and said there was an emergency.”
She waved it off. Eric was being a total drama queen. “Sebastian fell. He’s been a stubborn ass for the last couple of weeks because apparently he cut his leg and hasn’t been taking care of himself or allowing anyone else to take care of him. What the hell kind of Master doesn’t let his sub do her damn job?”
Macon sighed. “I told you he still has some hang-ups. Do we know how bad it is? Is he going to have to be hospitalized?”
“No.” Not according to Eric’s call. Eric had told her that Sebastian would be off his prosthetics for a week or two to let the wound heal. Eric had gone back to her and Sebastian’s apartment to pick up the wheelchair he’d tried so hard to never let her see.
He should have known that she snooped. She’d been the one to tell Eric where the damn chair was.
“Eric asked if Ally and I could help you pack up,” Macon said quietly. He was treating her like she was a fragile flower, so upset by Sebastian’s bark that she couldn’t help but break down.
Still, she had to at least consider that he’d meant what he’d said. “He told me to get out of our apartment. Even before he fell, he’d told me I had to leave. He found out I tracked down his sister.”
Ally nodded. “Good. What did you find out?”
“Hey,” Macon said, his mouth a flat line. “You poked around in his past. I told you what I knew in confidence and I believe I also mentioned that he wouldn’t like you putting your nose where it didn’t belong.”
