Chapter Two Hundred Thirteen
Ana froze at Bolt’s question, her gaze shooting to his. She wasn’t sure why it surprised her that he asked, but she hadn’t been expecting it. A thousand emotions swirled inside her—embarrassment, shame, frustration, anger—but despite most of them being negative, and the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was answer, she knew she had to.
He’d saved her from Shawn and given her a place to hide out until she could escape town, even if it was at a MC clubhouse where she was surrounded by all types of illegal shit. The least she could do was tell him why.
As she tried to figure out where to start, she gazed at him, her heart skipping a beat at how gorgeous he was. His massive arms were crossed, making his biceps even larger, the colorful ink decorating them popping out at her.
This man was sexy with a capital S, from the top of his raven head to the tips of his motorcycle boots.
And she was about to let him in on her biggest shame.
Sometimes she hated her life.
“Ana?”
Suppressing a shiver as his gravel roughened voice slid over her nerve endings, tweaking every pleasure point she knew of in her body—and even some she didn’t know—she blew out a breath. “Just trying to figure out where to start.”
“Start anywhere you want. I’ll catch up, and if I can’t, I’ll just ask for help.”
Wishing with everything in her that she didn’t have to do this—that she met Bolt without her past in their way, although that thought startled her; shouldn’t she be wishing she’d never met either man?—she inhaled deeply with a nod.
“Do you know who the O’Connell’s are?”
Eyes turning thoughtful, his brow furrowed before he nodded. “Fancy rich family in Dallas?”
Suppressing a smile at his reply, she nodded. “Yeah. Well, based out of New York, but lived in Dallas the last two generations. I’m one of them. Anastasia O’Connell.”
Dragging his eyes up and down her body, his frown deepened as his gaze landed on her hair. “I don’t know much about them, but I do know they’re basically all redheads.”
“We are,” she replied with a laugh, fingering her long hair. “I dyed my hair. A few times, actually. I tried black this last time, but it obviously didn’t help.” She paused, frowning when he didn’t reply, his eyes still on her face. “Why are you staring like that?”
His lips curled. “Just trying to imagine you with red hair. Go on.”
Steeling herself, she nodded. “I was at a society event when I met Shawn. He was handsome, charming, and my parents approved—and their approval was hard to find. But he was one of us. One of the rich, from a family in good standing, so of course they did. That’s all they really care about. Social standing and appearances,” she continued, unable to conceal her bitterness. “Things were good for a while. Not great… but good. Good enough that when he asked me to move in, I accepted.
“That’s when things changed. When he changed. It was subtle at first. So subtle I didn’t even really notice it. Questioning my intelligence. My clothes. My career. Everything. And before I noticed it, I was changing for him. I even quit my job, because he was going to propose soon, and he said it wasn’t appropriate for me to work. My parents approved, of course—they hadn’t liked me working and being anything other than a trust fund baby anyway.”
“He was verbally abusing you.”
His quiet growl wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway, setting her bag aside and staring at her fingers. “Yeah. Looking back, I see it all so clearly, but at the time, I didn’t. I honestly believed the things he said. I was stupid and the only reason I have a college degree was because my family name bought it for me. I was fat and unattractive. No one really liked me, they only tolerated me because of my family’s money. I couldn’t do anything right, and I was lucky he was willing to overlook my flaws and teach me how to do things right.”
Her voice was strained toward the end, disgust washing over her—at Shawn for the things he said and did, and at herself for believing him. Not just believing him, but actively trying to change everything about herself because she’d thought she was worthless.
Startling as Bolt pushed off the dresser and prowled toward her, she swallowed hard at the look of anger on his face. She didn’t think it was directed at her, but she couldn’t help stiffening as he sat next to her on the bed.
“Do you still believe those things?” he asked, his voice a quiet growl.
Hesitating for a moment, she shook her head. “No. Not really, anyway. I see it for what it is now, although I’ll admit that sometimes I have my doubts.” He frowned and opened his mouth, but she rushed on, needing to get it out. “I’m embarrassed. I know I wasn’t those things when we met, but falling for his shit wasn’t smart. It was the dumbest thing I ever did, and it still haunts me. It makes me question my intelligence every damned day.”
Bolt was quiet for a moment and then he slowly reached over, prying her hands apart and holding onto one. She tried to stifle a gasp as the heat from his touch shot through her, leaving tingles in its wake.
Holy. Shit. What the hell was that?
And most importantly, had he felt it, too?
“I’ve known people like that, Ana,” he said softly, pulling her out of her thoughts. “They’re sneaky. They’re pros at conning and deceiving people, and the slippery fucks burrow their words deep under your skin before you even realize what they’re doing. That doesn’t make
