All of Me (Confessions of the Heart 2) - Page 55

Yes. Yes. That’s what it had to be.

Fate.

Because I didn’t think I’d ever felt so safe in a man’s arms before his. Had never felt so sure of the goodness that radiated from inside.

Trusting someone was nothing but a chance thrown into the wind, and I didn’t think I’d ever wanted to put my trust in someone so fiercely.

I just had to figure out how to convince him to take a chance on me.

Fourteen

Ian

“This is bullshit. I told you I was finished with all of this,” I hissed below my breath where I sat in my office at my desk, mashing my teeth together so hard I didn’t know how they hadn’t ground to dust.

Anger had become a raging vortex in that hole carved out in the middle of my chest.

I hadn’t thought it could get deeper.

I was wrong.

Wasn’t surprised, either. I mean, fuck, what did I think?

Invite a girl into my bed and think she was gonna stay? I knew better than that.

Thing that bothered me the most was that I’d even wanted her to.

Still, I was the pathetic fucker who’d panicked when I’d woken and found the spot next to me empty. Jumping out of bed and running around my house like she was playing a twisted game of hide and seek.

I’d been just as prepared for the scenario that I was going to have to throw down some blows to protect her.

Fight for her.

The fact I was itching to showed just how fucking stupid I was.

Taking a chance.

What bullshit.

But the problem was, I hadn’t lied to her. Being with her that way? Closer to a woman than I’d ever been?

I’d lost a piece of myself.

A goner.

Last night had been unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The way she’d made me lose control when the only thing I had going for me was self-discipline and restraint. Determination and grit and tenacity.

Nothing could touch me.

I consumed what I wanted without it even causing a spike in my pulse. With greedy hands and a black, barren heart.

No care.

No responsibility.

No attachments.

And there I fucking was, getting attached.

Attached to that feeling and that body and those eyes. Her spirit shimmering all around me, glowing into the darkest recesses of my spirit.

Had the sinking feeling she might be the angel that wielded the power to bust through the calloused shell and seat herself on a throne in the middle of it.

It was for the best. God, I should have been kissing the ground on which her pretty little feet had walked out on—without so much as a fucking note, mind you—saving me the grief.

But it was there.

A ball of unspent hurt. Exactly what I couldn’t afford. Exactly why I couldn’t do this.

I clung to it. The knowledge that I couldn’t let some girl get in my way.

Distract me.

Stray me from course.

Didn’t mean I wasn’t still feeling pissed and surly and bitter, either.

What better asshole to take it out on than Lawrence Bennet.

Bennet chuckled one of his dark laughs. “You’re my attorney. You represent me. It’s your job.”

“I also have an obligation to the state bar. To my firm.”

“Your obligation is to me.” He said it so hard and fast that I felt the impact of it through the phone.

I was firing right back. “You don’t own me. No one does. No one will.”

His short shot of laughter was deep. Ominous. Far too knowing.

That was what happened when you laid yourself at someone’s feet.

They walked all over you.

“Just because you say it, doesn’t make it true. I’m certain Kenneth would be crestfallen to hear I’d grown unhappy with my representation. He’d be downright brokenhearted if he learned his most promising protégé was nothing but a common criminal.”

Lawrence didn’t hesitate to throw out the loaded threat.

He knew my intentions.

Who I was going to be.

“Don’t fuck with me, Lawrence. Blackmail isn’t going to win you any favors. And anything you have over me was instigated by you in the first place.”

Asshole had been influencing every move I made from the get go.

All the way back to when I was just a kid. A fucking kid who didn’t know any better. A kid who was trying to survive.

He laughed a mocking sound. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Ian Jacobs. I picked you up off the ground and dried your tears when you were nothing but a sniveling, starving brat. Put shoes on your feet and a roof over your head. You’d be nothing without me.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart, right?” Bitterness bled free.

“Maybe I should have left you in the gutter where you belonged. Just like your whore mother. But I didn’t . . . because I saw something great in you. You’d do well not to forget it.”

My eyes slammed closed as visions assaulted me. A violent rage boiled in my blood. A seething anger that coiled my guts into a thousand knots.

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