The Wife Before - Page 43

I panicked and glanced at the door. “Okay, I don’t know what you’re talking about or what Miley told you, but trying to spin this back on me isn’t going to save you. I’m telling Roland that you broke my one rule and that I want you out ASAP.”

“Calvin used to call you his slut. His nasty bitch. Am I getting that right? And you liked it? I mean, it probably fucked you up in the head a little bit, but you liked being that to him. You liked knowing he chose you over your own mother, didn’t you? You carry that to this day, that’s why you’re so bothered about Miley.”

I couldn’t believe Miley had told him so much! That was between us! She promised not to bring it up again.

“Fuck you, Dylan!” I stormed around him but didn’t make it to the door because he’d caught me by the elbow and spun me around. I gasped as he reeled me toward him and held me close.

“You don’t like to see her happy,” Dylan said with his face close to mine.

“Get off of me,” I growled through clenched teeth, and this feeling was familiar, yet strange. I hated it. I loved it. Fuck. Dylan was right. I was so fucked up in the head.

“Whenever she is happy, you want to steal it all away so you can look like the better sister.”

“Fuck you,” I seethed.

“You want me,” he mumbled, and his mouth was close to mine. “I remind you of him, right?” My heartbeat doubled in speed, the truth damn near swallowing me whole. I hated Calvin for what he did to me when I was fifteen, but I also couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. If it weren’t for Calvin, I never would have slept with Isaac, one of the managers of the golf club I used to work at. And if it weren’t for Isaac, I never would have been working the counter that brought Roland to me.

“You know that’s all you had to say, right? That you want me to yourself?” Dylan went on.

I worked hard to swallow.

“Why else would you be following me around? Interrogating me? Gaslighting your sister? Just admit to me and to yourself that you want me—that you’ve wanted me since I first showed up.”

“I don’t want you.”

“Well, I want you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Makes me just as fucked up as you, right? Melanie, you look at me differently than you do Roland. Just admit it. You want to fuck me. I don’t know why, when you’ve got so much going for you, but that’s what excites you, right? Wanting what you know you shouldn’t have?”

I couldn’t believe this.

“Miley told me so much about you,” he said, fingering a strand of my hair. “You get boyfriends and you get bored with them. Now you have a husband and you’re bored with him and you’re trying to make this about Miley, but you know damn well this isn’t about her. Let me ask you this: Before I got here, were you having any issues with her?”

I blinked up at him, keeping my lips sealed.

“Were you even talking to her before she moved here?”

I stared at him.

“No, you weren’t,” he said. “Before she became such an addict to you, she told me you two were like peas in a pod. But then she tells you that she’s attracted to me and you flip the fuck out and bring her addiction into it, despite the fact that she’s doing much better for herself now. Why do you even care so much who she likes?”

“I told you why.” My bottom lip quivered. “She’s unstable. One wrong move and she could relapse.”

“Maybe you’re the one who’s unstable. Maybe you’re the one relapsing.”

I realized he was still holding me so I snatched my arm out of his hands. “I want you out of here by tonight. I don’t care what you have to tell Roland, but you need to be gone. And don’t even think about going to stay with Miley because I own that apartment. She knows not to break any of my rules.”

He grabbed me again. “You’re gonna kick me out? Just like that? Because I’m right about who you are and who you’ve always been?”

I matched his stare. “You’re not right about anything.”

“You don’t want Roland finding out about this part of you, do you?”

I clenched my jaw and my fingers twitched. I wanted to slap him, but the closer he got to me, the weaker my knees became, and the memories hit me hard. Back when I was a teen. Back when Calvin would sneak into my room while my mother was asleep. He’d touch me in the dark, grope me, say things to me that made me feel special—like I was his and only his.

Dylan smirked, took a step forward, and before my brain could register what was happening, his lips were on mine and he was kissing me.

Tags: Shanora Williams Thriller
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