I rinse a day of work away, opting to call Christy tomorrow. I don’t even know what to tell her at this point. I’ve been in a daze, just going through the motions since Tobias left me with his confession. Even Melinda has left me alone with my thoughts as I made it through my last few shifts on autopilot.
More and more, I’ve become attuned to my surroundings after my shifts at the plant, fearful at times despite those flanking me to get to their cars and back home. Even though I know I’m being watched, and am under Tobias’s protection, I sometimes get a sinking feeling. More and more, my dreams are becoming nightmares, and more often than not, sleep is starting to evade me. Whether it be guilt for the part I’m playing in my father’s downfall or the lover I’ve taken, or the scary truths that have been revealed to me, something is off.
I’m to the point where I trust nothing and no one.
I told Tobias he feared me as much as he hated me, but with the way he left me days ago, it’s clear he’s attempting to turn the tables and paint himself in a better image.
I refuse to believe him. He’s far too deceptive for his apology to have been authentic. I have to chalk his sudden change in behavior as an attempt at more manipulation. There’s something he wants, and I have to figure out what it is and whether it’s worth it for me.
His sudden change of heart is too convenient, too far-fetched to consider. He was convincing, I’ll give him that, but I will not fall victim to him or his performance. Fool me twice.
I will not be played again. No matter how much I desire him.
The more I think about my conversation with him, the more curious I become about his fear of us being discovered.
Would they even care at this point?
It’s been nearly nine months of utter silence.
But something in Tobias’s confession alluded to the fact they would care—very much—about us sleeping together. And still, days pass without a word, without a trace they exist.
During our conversation at the clearing though, Tobias couldn’t be sure. He assumed that necklace came from Dominic.
Why?
What is he not telling me? That’s what I have to figure out.
But his admission to me was ammunition against him, and he said he wouldn’t fight me on it. He gave me a grenade and put my finger in the pin with the option to pull. I don’t see that playing to his advantage from any angle unless he thinks he can manipulate me into keeping our secret.
Or maybe confessing is exactly what he wants me to do.
Maybe that’s his motive.
The man is a walking mindfuck.
I’m in the midst of rinsing out my conditioner when a sudden but distinct electricity spikes my awareness.
Clearing my eyes, I peer through the glass door and spot Tobias standing just outside of it, gloriously naked while unmistakable thirst is evident in his expression. The second our eyes connect, all my thoughts fall away as my libido takes the wheel.
Might as well enjoy hell together.
He opens the door and steps in, just as I reach for him and our mouths collide. His kiss is ruthless, his tongue delving into every corner of my hungry mouth, and I return it with equal fervor. In seconds he’s inside of me, his mouth latched to my neck as he furiously fucks me against the heated tiles until I go limp in his arms just before he jerks his hips and stills, emptying inside of me. “Putain. Putain. You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, just before he draws my lips into a dizzying kiss. I drag my nails down his back and through his hair when he jerks away from my touch. It’s then I see that his hair is soaked, and it’s not from the shower spray. A drop of crimson hits his shoulder and I gasp when I realize he’s bleeding.
“What in the hell? You’re hurt!”
I raise on my toes to inspect the wound and he gently pushes me away.
“I’m all right.”
“You’re bleeding. Tobias, this looks bad.”
He reverses us, the water hitting his scalp and coming out tinged with pink between our feet at the drain. He runs his hand through his hair as I struggle with him to get a closer look.
“What happened?” I battle with him until finally he relents, sitting on the shower bench so I can inspect him. The inch-long gash at his crown could use a stitch or three.
“You need stitches.”
“It will heal.”
Once he’s rinsed off, he follows me out of the shower and stumbles before bracing himself on the counter.
His eyes close as he pales.
“You’ve lost too much blood.”
He chews his lip with his teeth. “I’m good.”
“Sit down. Now.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you pass out and crack your head, I will leave you to die.”
“No, you won’t, that’s not who you are.” He grips my hand and glances at me, his smile faint.
“Sit the hell down.”
He does as I do my best to towel him off.
It takes every bit of strength I have not to press my lips to his skin as I do.
That’s affection, and maybe it’s his helplessness that has me wanting to do something so intimate.
I bat that notion away Louisville Slugger style. I’ve shown him enough kindness by tending to him.
I will not be the fool again.
He watches my every move as I pat the water from his body before ordering him to sit on the edge of my bed.
“You think fucking me was smart, considering?”
“I think fucking you was worth the added headache you’re giving me.”
I roll my eyes as he tries to pull me into his lap.
“Tobias, you’re seconds away from passing out. Stop, you’re white as a sheet.”
He shrugs. “Better than having one draped over me.”
“That’s debatable.”
I don’t miss his grin. “Maybe you don’t hate me so much anymore.”
“Not debatable.”
I collect his clothes from my floor and see the collar of his shirt is covered in blood, along with the back of his suit jacket.
“How long have you been freely bleeding? You’ve lost a lot.”
He nods toward his clothes. “Burn them.”
“I’m afraid my incinerator is on the fritz.” I bite my lips to stifle my laugh.
He rolls his eyes. “Bag them. I’ll take them with me.”
I lift the clothes in jest. “So, this is all covered in incriminating DNA, all I need to take you down, huh?”
Nothing about that amuses him.
“I’m joking.”
He’s not.
“You already have all you need to take me down.”
We stare off, his newest confession throwing me until he winces.
I cock my hip and palm it. “You need stitches. It’s still bleeding. Don’t you have some sort of dirty mob doctor on the payroll?”
A chuckle erupts from him. “You’ve seen entirely too many movies, but it’s not a bad idea. It’s not deep enough, and it will close tonight. I’ll settle for a nurse with a horrible bedside manner instead.”
“Fine,” I roll my eyes. “Stay there.” Dressing quickly, I go to the hall closet and pull out a trash bag and the first aid kit. I bring it back to the bedroom and spray his gash with antiseptic. I can’t help my giggle when he lets out a whimper as I press a bandage to his wound before ordering him to hold it.