Oh, he did not.He fucking did not.
I take a deep breath, knowing that the calmer and more rationally I lay out my feelings, the easier it will be for him to hear them. “Do you remember what you said at Sunset Hills? I was ready to handle this myself, but you said we could track the General downtogether.You saidI can’t do this without my favorite spider.”
He reaches up and tugs at his hair, clearly hating this confrontation. “It’s easier for me to just do it. Only I know what to look for.”
“So tell me and we can do it together,” I suggest, waving my arm for emphasis. “Divide and conquer—it would be a pain at first when you had to explain it, but ultimately faster.”
“It’s… not that simple.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“I…” he sighs in exasperation. “I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I don’t need your help—I only needed your information. I’m sorry if you feel misled.”
The anger that’s been steadily rising towards a boil nearly spills over. I scowl at him. “You’re sorry if I feel misled,” I say with a shake of my head. What a bullshit apology. “Well, I do. I feel misled. Why am I even here, Wesley?” I ask, shifting away when he reaches for me, responding to the hurt in my tone. “Why did you bring me here?”
“You were in danger,” he replies instantly, the excuse locked and loaded. “This is the only place I could keep you safe—that we could be together and not have to worry about other assassins or attempts on your life.”
“That we could be together,” I repeat, feeling like the words are somehow hollow. “Oh, I see. I’m here to be your little sex doll—stress relief for you. I’m good enough to fuck, but not to tell the important stuff.”
His face twists, and I realize how horrible that was.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. You don’t treat me like a doll. You never have.” I sigh, feeling even worse now. His face is still a mask, hiding his genuine emotions behind the excuses and deferrals. “Just… be real with me. That’s all I want. Tell me what changed?”
“Nothing changed,” he argues. “It’s never been safe for you to be part of this. Your work has exposed you to certain things, but it’s different on this side of it. Nicole and Eleanor understand—”
Having their names thrown at me in this moment of anger is what does it. I snap. “What if I don’t want to be like Nicole and Eleanor? What if I don’t want to be just some helpless damsel, sitting uselessly on the sidelines of my own life—”
“Wow.” The word is a soft exhale, and we both spin.
Nicole is in the doorway of the office, hand poised like she was about to knock. I don’t need to ask how long she’s been there, because the wide-eyed look says it all. She heard what I said in anger, completely out of context.
Fuck.Fuck!
“Nicole—” I start.
She turns her head to the side, avoiding eye contact as she clears her throat. “Um, Dimitri asked me to come get you for training. Don’t worry. I’ll tell him you don’t need any of us.”
“Nicole!” I beg, feeling hot, prickly tears behind my eyes. I’m torn as she turns to leave, wanting to chase her and explain myself, knowing it probably won’t matter, and feeling tethered because this isn’t over with Wesley yet...
“Fuck! That’s just… great. Perfect. Just another reason to hate bitchy Madison, who thinks she’s better than everyone else.” I press the heels of my hands to my eyes to try to hold back the tears.
I wanted to like it here. I wanted so badly to be part of something, to have friends, to be one of the members of this tight-knit group. I even kind of thought this time it could work out because I had anin—I was Wesley’s girl.
But apparently I’m not. Or, I can’t be fully. Just like everything else, it has to be on his terms. And I’m not part of the group, either—I’m stuck outside, saying all the wrong things and making people who already don’t like me even more pissed off.
To make it all worse, it’s my own fault because I let my guard down. I let myself believe it would work.
This is what happens when you care about what other people think. They make you feel stupid for it.
I feel his hands on my shoulders, a clumsy comfort. “Stop,” I grit out, pulling away. “I won’t be with someone who doesn’t care what I want because they think they know better. So either tell me what’s going on, or I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?” he repeats, voice dropping. It’s like a question and a warning all at once.
“I’ll go sleep outside with George,” I threaten.
When he smiles at that, I almost slap him across the face. It’s full of relief, not humor, and I realize he thought I meant I’d leave the mansion. And that just makes me mad all over again. “Oh, don’t worry,Sir,” I hiss. “I’m not going anywhere. You made sure of that.”
I whirl and storm out of the room.
