With that, I stalk into the elevator just before the doors glide shut.
As soon as I get back to my car, I break into a million pieces.
28
BLAIR
Once I blotthe tears off my face and swipe at my ruined eye makeup, I take a deep breath and put my car in reverse. I just need to get the fuck out of here. Put as much distance as possible between myself and those evil men, as fast as I can. But then I realize I can’t even back out of the parking space. Because Sebastian is standing directly behind my car.
I almost laugh at his misplaced confidence that I’m not going to run him over. Considering my state of mind right now, I’m tempted. The laugh dies in my throat as a fresh wave of fury washes over me.
Who the hell does he think he is to block my exit like this? To control my movements, to manipulate me? Oh, but I forgot. That’s exactly what he does. It’s his fucking job, apparently. To make puppets out of women, to laugh as he pulls their strings.
Unbuckling my seatbelt and pushing my car door open, I leave the engine running as I climb out of the car to seethe at him. “Get the fuck out of the way, Sebastian!”
Instead of doing as I ask, he takes a few steps closer. “Blair?—”
“No. I’m not talking to you,” I cut him off, my voice cold.
He raises his hands in surrender, palms up to face me. “Then let me talk. Please.”
It’s not that I don’t see the anguish on his face. It’s that I don’t care. Not that his emotions are even real, are they? He’s obviously an excellent actor, as evidenced by his past actions, by the way he strung me along even as he plotted behind my back to orchestrate the sale of my body, my life, my free will. I’m done falling for his shit.
“Why should I believe anything you have to say?” I yell, stalking toward him. “You’reselling me. Get away from me!”
Tears are gathering in my eyes again, the rage a ball of fire in my belly, and I push against his chest as hard as I can, but he doesn’t even move. He’s as immovable as a marble statue.
“What happened back there?” he asks. “What did your dad tell you?”
“Nobody told me shit. I overheard him talking to Ted fucking Polansky about the auction. The secret’s out. So please, if this whole thing is just a big misunderstanding, now’s the time to fill me in.”
I gaze up at him, silently pleading for him to fix all of this with some kind of explanation, even though I know that’s impossible. There’s nothing he can say that will make the ugly reality of this situation any different. He opens his mouth and then closes it, shaking his head.
“Leave, then!” I yell, slamming my fist into his pec. “Just fucking leave!”
My temples are throbbing and it hurts like hell, but not nearly as much as the pain in the center of my chest where all the love I felt for him has shattered into a constellation of sharp edges.
“I was trying to tell you—” he starts.
That gets a harsh laugh out of me. “Really? When? When did you try to tell me? Was it when you were fucking me in my hotel room? Or maybe once my parents arrived and you fucked me in your sex slave hotel?”
“Jesus, Blair, it’s not—look, this isn’t a fast conversation, but it’s really not like that. You have it all wrong.”
“Do I? Well, maybe I do. I mean, it’s not like you made me think there was something real between us, when all along you and my father were planning to literally sell me off to the highest bidder out of a pool of asshole millionaires. Birds of a feather, right?”
He drops his gaze, and I know that everything I’ve accused him of is true. He’s a liar, a trickster, a monster. How did I never see this side of him before? He was so good at letting me see the sides of him he wanted me to that I never even thought to look deeper.
I take a step back toward my car. “Fuck. You. Just tell me one thing.”
Vaguely aware that someone is walking across the parking lot, I lower my voice but it’s difficult. I don’t care if someone overhears and I’m too angry to get a grip on my behavior.
“Were you planning to help my father sell me the entire time we were sleeping together?” I go on. “Yes, or no?”
Sebastian’s face is made of stone. He doesn’t give away a single thing, including the reassurance I was stupidly hopeful for. Nothing we had was real.
My heart somehow breaks even more.
“So you were. Of course you were,” I choke out. “I can’t believe I thought we were building something between us. But it was just a game for you! You and my father were planning to sell me off the entire time you and I were sleeping together. Do you fuck all the girls you sell? What is it, a trial run? Were you taking me for a test drive, so you could report back to your buyers? God, you’re disgusting.”
