“And by your own admission, you went to his house,” he said, his tone like he’d just produced the smoking gun.
Alexa put her hand to her forehead, absolutely at a loss for how to pull this back from the brink of disaster, and beyond stunned at how different this night was going from what she’d planned. She’d expected to come home and seduce Grant, to show him her gratitude for his thoughtfulness earlier, to make love to him slowly and thoroughly until they were both sated and sleepy. “I . . . I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry I didn’t mention seeing him. I should have, and I’m sorry. Frankly, I didn’t want it to cause a fight when seeing him had been completely random and unlikely to happen again. And honestly, I was so surprised by the trip you planned for us that all my thoughts were focused on being with you and us being together.”
“At least you don’t deny lying to me. I’m giving you all this”—he gestured with outspread arms at the room, the house, the physical proof of his wealth and power—“and lies and deceit and betrayal are what you give me in return.” He braced his hands on his hips and shook his head, disgust pouring off of him.
The guilt inside her twisted, morphed, flashed hot. Anger took root in the center of her chest. “I don’t need all this, Grant. I need a man who trusts me. Who doesn’t assume the worst of me. Who knows I can be in the room with another man, even someone I used to date, and remain faithful. I give you that kind of trust, and what you’re giving me in return is suspicion and accusation.” The more she spoke, the faster the words spilled out of her, and the stronger the anger grew inside her. And, oh, man, the well of anger inside her was deep. So deep. Scary deep. How had she not seen that before?
Color raised higher in his cheeks and his eyes blazed with anger and outrage. “Oh, you don’t need all this? Is that it? You’d rather go back to the shithole of a life you had before me? Is that what you’re saying? You have nothing without me. You are nothing without me.”
Oh, my God.
“How could you say such a horrible thing?” she whispered, calling him out in a way she never had before. “How could you even think it?” Nausea rolled through her at his words. Was that what he really thought of her? Why are you so surprised, Alexa? And how much more do you need to hear before you grow a spine?
“Truth hurts, sweetheart.” He glared at her. He stared at her like she was trash, which was exactly how he was trying to make her feel. But she wasn’t feeding herself his running commentary this time. Not this time.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” she said, staring at everything she thought she’d wanted. And seeing for the first time that it had all been a pretty charade. A pretty charade she’d let herself believe in with all her heart. “You know what? Let’s take a break before one of us says something else we don’t mean.” Because she needed a moment. Just one. To decide whether to try to fix what was broken . . . or start packing her bags.
Do you really need to think about it? She suddenly felt like she was standing on the edge of a tall cliff and about to plunge into a free fall.
“I mean every word I’m saying, darling. Count on it.”
The hollowness in her chest hurt so damn bad. What a fool she’d been. What a blind, stupid doormat. Maverick was right—Tyler would’ve killed her if he knew what she’d let Grant get away with. “Wow. Okay,” she said, shaking her head. She made for the door.
“Don’t walk away from me, Alexa,” Grant growled.
She kept going. As she rounded the corner toward the kitchen, she nearly tripped on Lucy who was hiding in the shadows as if she’d been listening to them fight, but from a safe distance. Alexa caught herself on the wall and leaned down to scoop up the cat, needing her warmth and her unconditional love. Alexa’s stomach was jiggly and her knees were weak and her heart hurt so damn bad she could barely breathe. Nothing felt real.
Fingers wrapped around Alexa’s arm, squeezing a gasp out of her. The grip was hard. Painfully tight.
“Wha—”
Grant tugged and dragged her, not saying a word.
Alexa stumbled until her feet caught up with his pace. “Grant, stop. Stop. You’re hurting me.”
He pulled her through the hall and into the foyer. Lucy growled and her claws dug into Alexa’s shoulder in response to being jostled.
When they got to the front door, Grant pushed her against it roughly, hand still like a manacle, her shoulder and the back of her head making contact with the hard wood. Lucy struggled in her arms, but Alexa was so stunned that she hung on.