Page 75 of Intrepid

The push and pull with him had officially become exhausting. He reminded me of a child, begging for my toy, and the moment he’d earned enough sympathy from me to hand it over, he shoved it away. Maybe I’d given him the wrong toy. Or maybe he’d just wanted to borrow it for a while, then toss it away once he’d grown bored of it.

What started as a small seed of frustration blew into full-on irritation that needled at me, as we descended the dark staircase. It prodded my muscles to freeze, where we stood halfway to the landing, and spin around.

“What toy are you asking for, Ty?” In spite of the low volume, every word echoed down the stairwell. “The one I refuse to share with anyone else, or the one I give you just so you’ll keep playing with me?”

The perplexed expression stamped on his face urged me to continue.

“I feel like every time I start to trust you, or start to feel something for you, it’s your cue to push me away. Why bother to pull me in so hard? What is it that you want from me? Sex? Sympathy? Am I a source of amusement for you?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even bother to look at me, and I shook my head, at a complete loss of how to crack the vault he’d cranked so damn tight, I was surprised it hadn’t busted off its hinges.

“I didn’t want this. I told you in the beginning, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I still don’t know that I want that. But you snuck in somehow. You broke through my barriers, and now I want something from you. If it’s friends, okay, let’s be friends. Talk to me. If it’s lovers, then …” I swallowed a harsh gulp, trying not to give in to the urge to look away. “Isn’t that why you brought me here? To fuck me?”

His eye twitched at that, but the rest of him remained stiff and unmoving. As if everything I’d said had bounced off the steel door of his vault while he laughed somewhere inside.

“You know what? Forget it.” I spun around, continuing back down the stairs. “I’ll call a cab. Thanks for—”

The wall crashed into my spine, sending a spasm of pain to my head. Ty gripped my throat, his nostrils flared in anger and his furious shark eyes damn near burning right through me.

My hands flew to his arm to break his unyielding grasp, my cheeks still hot with annoyance and embarrassment. Fear whirled inside my chest, shooting icy signals to my muscles and paralyzing them. Surely, he must’ve felt my panic pulsing against his hand. “I’m tired of your games. Let me go!”

“I’m not looking for your fucking sympathy. I’m not looking for another fucking therapist. And I’m sure as hell not looking for a fucking friend.”

The angry curve of his lips begged me bite them, to suck them into my mouth and kiss him until his rage throbbed inside of me, tearing through my body in a blaze of heat. The air between us thickened with tension and something else—some kind of electric energy. A magnetic pull that wouldn’t let me walk away from him if I’d tried.

I hated the way I wanted him. I was sick for craving the fire in my belly, the thrill of pissing him off just so I could touch the scalding flame inside, like a child reaching out for a hot stove. “Then, what do you want? A one-night stand? A quick fuck, and then you’ll discard me and move on to the next girl?”

“What are you looking for, Sera? A man to come save you from your father?” He ran his thumb over the racing pulse in my throat, his lips set to a mirthless smile. “To sweep you up into a perfect little house, with a picket fence and a nice fake life?”

“Fuck you, Ty. Fuck. You.” I spat out, and hiked my knee to kick him in the nuts.

With a jerk of his hip, he blocked my assault and pressed harder into my neck. “Is that what you need?” His hot breath scattered across my jawline as he nudged his way toward my ear, and goddamn it, it felt good, the heat across my skin. “Do you need to be fucked?”

“No,” I lied, the quiver in my voice giving me away. “I need you to let me go.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Sera. I’m the reason you carry around pepper spray and wear your keys between your knuckles. I’m the reason you twirl your hair when you’re nervous. Why you lock the doors when you’re alone. So, you tell me, why does a smart girl like yourself continue to go against your instincts? You so willingly accept my invitations every fucking time, like you want to be hurt.” Eyes rapt on my mouth, perhaps waiting for my response, he slid his thumb across my jaw and over my bottom lip. “Why do you make it so easy for me?”

For the first time, I’d begun to see what lay beneath all the charm. A dark and bitter poison looking to taint my blood. Some might’ve called it a sickness in him, but all I could see was pain. A vicious heart that craved destruction.

“You want to hurt me? Go ahead. Because I’m not afraid of you. I’m somehow drawn to men like you. I used to think it was a curse, but I’ve come to realize, it’s a disease.” A bitter laugh escaped me in all my frustration. “I’m sick. I feed off this shit, Ty. That’s the only explanation I can come up with.” I breathed hard through my nose, keeping my stare locked on his in challenge. “Every time I get hurt, I get stronger, more resistant. More fearless. And I can promise you, no man will ever leave his mark on me again. So do your worst.”

His gaze fell to my scar and back. The grip of his fingers loosened against my throat. “Who did this to you?”

“What do you care? What do you get out of it, huh? Amusement?”

His eyes screwed shut. “Tell me.”

The anger stirred in my stomach. “Skiing accident.”

“Bullshit. Tell me what happened.”

I tilted my head, pushing the scar into his face. “This is what happens when you’re the daughter of a ruthless son of a bitch.”

“Your father did this?”

“No. Someone made the tragic mistake of thinking there was a single man in this world who gave a shit about me. Happy now? I’ve bared another piece of my soul, and you’ve given me nothing.”

“You want to know what my soul looks like? You want a glimpse of the real me? C’mon. I’ll show you.” He tugged my arm, dragging me behind him down the stairs, until he came to a stop at a door on the landing. He stuffed his hand into his pocket, never relenting his grip of my wrist, and shoved a key into the lock.