“What makes you think I want you back?” he asks, caressing the side of my face with a reverence that doesn’t match the cruel tone of his voice. I feel the sting of his words on my skin like a lash from a whip, but I refuse to back down. I refuse to let him see just how much that comment hurts. I need to play the part of a woman who doesn’t care. A woman who is here to get her way, and that’s it.
“You said it before, not me.”
“Make no mistake, baby, there is no us. This is me doing you a favor and getting to fuck you while doing it.”
Pain seeps into my chest. His words slide through my veins and burn. Each syllable a laceration against my flesh.
I turn from him, heading into the guest room, and I’m all too thankful when he doesn’t follow. I’m not sure if I can handle facing him right now. His words hurt. They’re abrasions on my skin, scraping and burning, stabbing at my heart.
With clean lines, dark surfaces, and modern decorations, the guest room is just as nice as the rest of his penthouse. I snuck in here once and looked around, but I never physically slept in here. Not when I had Baz’s bed. When I think about his bed, I get a flash of that night. Those two women come to mind, and I feel my heart harden. I start to grow angry as I remember, and I hang on to that feeling, the pain his words have evoked. That’s the only way I’ll make it out of this alive.
It’s been two days of being here in Baz’s domain, and I feel like I’m walking around on eggshells. The day after he crushed my spirit, stomping on it on his pristine marble floors, he had work to do, so I have the penthouse to myself now. There was another key left for me that gave me access in and out, so I decide to go out to the pool and sit. The weather is starting to cool in LA, but that doesn’t stop tourists from getting in the water and prancing around in bikinis. I sit on one of the loungers and people watch, fully clothed, with no intention of stripping down or getting in the water, not with all the scars marring my body.
When I get back to the penthouse a few hours later, he still isn’t back, but Dan is. If it wasn’t for him, I might’ve starved for the last two days. He’s brought me lunch and dinner, and yesterday, he kept me from going insane while Baz was gone. I wonder what is keeping him. What is so important that he isn’t even trying to touch me?
That is what has me so anxious. I don’t know what to expect from Baz, but I want to be prepared for the moment we sleep together. I need enough time to block my mind and my heart from further hurt. Sex with Baz has always been explosive, and our time apart has more than likely not changed that. That’s what I am the most worried about. I don’t want to fall into him the very second he touches me or wrings an orgasm out of me. I want to be stronger.
I’ve been tossing and turning for the last hour, so I decide to hell with it and get up. I haven’t heard Baz come in, so I figure he’s still out, doing God knows what. I pad out of the guest room and pause in the hallway. My gaze is drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows and the incredible view of the hills and Hollywood lights.
I head toward the balcony doors and open them, padding out into the cool night air. The wind is a little brisk tonight, blowing my hair around my shoulders, but I welcome it. I welcome the sensation of anything other than this sickening sadness that lives inside me. I take a seat near the crystalized fireplace that overlooks the view, and I just lie back on the lounger and think.
Hearing a soft click behind me, I shift on the lounger when I see Baz walking toward me. He’s not watching me. Instead, his gaze is fixed on the view. I wonder how many times he’s sat out here and just peacefully looked out at the expanse of rolling hills and the glittering lights of the city. When he takes a seat next to me, I grow uncomfortable. I don’t know how to act around him anymore, without thinking of the past or thinking of the mess of the future.
“I’ll go.”
“Sit down, Mackenzie.” He sighs in exasperation, sounding tired. I plop back down and make a continuous effort not to fidget.
“I see why you like New York so much,” he says, still looking at the view. “It’s different compared to here: the people, the way of life.”
“I think this is the greatest part about being here, though. In New York, the buildings are the only view you see, but here, this? It’s breathtaking. Each time I see it.”
Silence descends.
“Been working?” It’s a lame conversation starter, and I beat myself up for it the second it leaves my lips. Christ, I’m the worst at this.
“Someone has to. You’ve looked bored out of your mind.”
“Well, yeah. I’m stuck inside—” Cutting myself off midsentence, I dart my gaze to his. He’s in the process of rolling up his sleeves, revealing those tanned, muscle-corded forearms, giving me a slight glimpse of that tattoo that makes my stomach turn. “You haven’t even been here. How would you know I looked bored out of my mind?”
“Cameras, Mackenzie. Such an amazing investment.”
“New addition?”
He casts a look my way. “No.” My heart lurches, and I swallow.
What does that mean? How long have they been there? Were they there when I was here before?
“To answer the question that you’re too afraid to ask; yes, they were here before. It was how I knew what you were up to at all times.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “That’s an invasion of privacy.”
He scoffs. “You want to talk about an invasion of privacy?”
“So, you knew? That whole time? Why not say anything?” I don’t understand him or the way his head works. If he saw all that, why keep it a secret? I feel like an absolute fool. He made me out to be this criminal when he knew exactly what I was doing the whole time.
“Yes.”
“You never confronted me. Why?”
He seems deep in thought as he mulls over his response. One would think it would be an easy answer, but I guess not. I should know better at this point. Baz is a calculated man. He doesn’t make any decisions that don’t benefit him in some way in the end. So there has to be a reason he decided to keep it from me. How long did he know? I think back, trying to pinpoint the moment he was watching me too closely. I’m dissecting every moment of our time together, wondering if any of it was real. It felt real for me. Despite all the lies and the information I wanted to find on the rest of the Savages, I started to trust Baz. I grew attached to him, my feelings overshadowing my rational thought.
“Because I wanted to see what you were up to. How far you’d go with your lies. And I must say, you’re good. Even had me fooled for quite a bit.”
A piercing pain stabs me in the heart at his words. It’s a constant stabbing that makes it hard to breathe. I hate that he thinks I’m a liar, and I hate even more that he’s right.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” My voice trembles, and I despise that it’s giving away how I’m feeling on the inside. Our gazes clash, but he’s so closed off right now, I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“You didn’t. That would mean I felt something for you, Mackenzie.”
I flinch, physically flinch, away from the harshness of his words. He doesn’t even blink as he says it, obviously feeling no remorse. I curl my hands into fists, relishing in the sting of my nails digging into my palm. Anything to take away from the reverberating pain in my heart and the shooting pang in my chest.