The door swings shut between us.
Not long ago, I rushed into the hall and begged Audrey to release me from her wedding party as Sebastian chased me down.Now I walk down the busy sidewalk with legs as numb as my heart and a head as empty as the day I lost my only friend and ally.
Cathy was right.I’m a worthless runt not worthy of friends.I don’t deserve to breathe.I’m a curse to everyone who knows me.
Trapped underneath a dark, stormy cloud, I let my feet carry me to the only safe place in the world.
My apartment.
I don’t think Peter will be able to coax me out this time.I don’t deserve his friendship, not after I betrayed Terry and spoke such horrible words to Sebastian.
Like a robot following basic programming, I unlock my apartment door, slip off my shoes, and step into the place I once called my sanctuary.
Compared to Sebastian’s arms, the space is cold and lonely.
I deserve every ounce of misery.
Chapter 14
Sebastian Sterling
Penelope’s wooden movementsand expressionless face scare the shit out of me as I follow her down the streets.I slip my wallet back into my pocket—sans the black card I tossed on the jewelry counter with curt instructions to box up the last two rings she tried on—and lengthen my stride.I scowl and lift a brow at the man eyeing Penelope’s purse.He lifts his hands in the air, turns tail, and darts into the nearest alley, deciding Penelope isn’t an easy target with me looming behind her.
She continues onward, oblivious to her surroundings even when she turns and takes the stairs down to the subway.I grit my teeth and allow a few people between us so our reflections aren’t in the same windowpane when the train pulls up, then push through the crowd and stand directly behind her, using my body as a shield so she isn’t jostled by the others.She stares out the window with vacant eyes as the lights whizz by.Worry eats away at my insides.Even after being locked in the server room she wasn’t this catatonic.
I don’t know what happened to trigger her.One moment she was studying the ring on her finger with a dreamy expression, then when I turned back around after ending my call, she was heading toward the door as white and lifeless as a porcelain doll.
Her words ring in my ears so loudly they drown out the noise of the subway.Although she delivered her declaration with painful clarity, the frozen tundra in her eyes told a story of despair and turmoil.
I don’t know why she’s hurting, and I have no way to help her beyond protecting her as she robotically travels through the city.
The apartment building she meanders into is well kept and clean, but nowhere near nice enough for the successful entrepreneur her brother always said she was.I grit my teeth as my self-hatred grows.She sacrificed so much to help her parents while her brother flitted around without a second thought toward them in front of me.I was blind and stupid for not seeing the truth.
When she pulls a key out of her purse without fumbling around inside it first, I glimpse how deeply ingrained the need for control and safety are in her everyday life.Even without her faculties present, the safeguards she keeps in place ensure she opens her door without dawdling in the hall.
As she steps over the threshold toward safety, I turn to leave, but a masculine voice calls out from deep within the apartment.Penelope doesn’t react.My senses heighten and wordless rage fills me.I catch the door before it swings shut and watch with violence buzzing in my veins as Penelope slips off her shoes, picks them up, and disappears into a bedroom.
Even when her lock snicks into place, I step into her apartment and shut the door behind me.
The door opposite Penelope’s opens, and a man with water dripping down his skin and a towel wrapped loosely around his hips steps into the hallway.
“Hey, Pen, where were you, bitch?I called a million t—”
He must sense my fury because he freezes and swivels his head toward me in slow motion.The widening of his eyes—in both shock and fear—fills me with evil delight.
Who he is or why he’s in Penelope’s apartment doesn’t matter.He’s naked.He called her a bitch.He raised his fist to pound on her door.
He’s dying by my hands today.
I stalk forward with murderous rage priming my muscles.The fool glances down at the base of the door.His perfectly sculpted eyebrows lift.
I slam my fist into his defined cheekbone and follow through with a left jab into his solar plexus.
He grunts and stumbles backward.I follow and swing again.The coward drops to the ground and tries to crawl past me.I pin him against the wall with my leg.
Despite the overabundance of flesh—his towel lies strewn across the floor—I reach down and yank his head back by his hair.
“What are you doing in my woman’s apartment?”
