“Like I said. It doesn’t matter. There’s no one to tell. He doesn’t need to stay with me anymore.”
I sat down on the step, my pulse pounding in my head. I had to take slow breaths to keep from throwing up. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do anything that would alert them to my presence. I didn’t want to confront Remington. I didn’t even want to see him again.
How could I have been so stupid? I thought he truly cared for me, that he was possibly falling for me. The more awake I became, the more certain I was that I’d blurted out that I loved him, and Remington had said nothing in return. I did have a fuzzy memory of him whispering in my ear, but that had to be a dream.
He didn’t love me. He’d only brought me home, only hired me, because I’d seen him on the street where I worked, and he must have lied to me about telling Lance how we met since Lance knew where I’d been. I suppose I should be grateful Remington hadn’t just shot me.
They continued to talk, moving on to a discussion about how to clean up after the previous night’s mess, but I tuned them out and eventually found the strength to stand and move back up the steps, praying they wouldn’t creak. When I got to Remington’s bedroom, I dressed in the tight leather pants and the ridiculous crop top I’d been wearing the night I’d met him. I found my phone, then looked around at all the other things I’d acquired thanks to Remington. I wasn’t going to take them. It had all been a lie. I didn’t want anything to remember it by. I’d keep the money he’d already given me, but I wouldn’t take more. I was standing in the middle of his room, staring at the artifacts of the life I’d fallen into and been stupid enough to think could be mine when I heard Remington on the stairs.
37
Remington
I’d sent Lance and Tony out the door. We’d needed to debrief, but I was impatient to get back to Henri. After what had happened between us—his confession of love and my realization that he was worth whatever price I had to pay to balance a relationship with him and being head of the family—I’d finally whispered the words he’d said back, but I was fairly sure he’d already been asleep. I needed to tell him again in the light of day.
When I reached my room, Henri was dressed in the clothes he’d been wearing when we’d met. He swiped at his cheeks before turning to face me, but it was still obvious he’d been crying. His eyes were red, and he looked worse than I’d ever seen him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“These are my clothes. This world you brought me into… It’s not where I belong.”
He didn’t seem like the same man who’d told me he loved me the night before. “Henri, what’s going on?”
He hesitated.
I took a step closer to him, and he retreated. “Tell me.”
“Fine. I woke up and went to find you, but I heard you and Lance talking, and—”
He didn’t need to say more for me to understand. I regretted ever saying anything to Lance about the night I met Henri, but he kept pressuring me, so I told him I needed to keep Henri with me because he’d seen me that night. I didn’t mention that I’d paid him for his services. Instead, I’d told Lance I rescued him. “Henri, let me explain.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t need to explain. You hired me because it was necessary to protect your family. I get that. You haven’t been cruel to me or promised me anything. It was all me. I was a fool, and now it’s time for me to leave.”
No. This couldn’t be happening. He was not going to leave. “Henri, please. Let’s have some breakfast and talk about this.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I did bring you home because you’d seen me somewhere I shouldn’t have been, but that’s not why I wanted you to stay.”
He held up his hand. “Please don’t. I want to leave.”
I could force him to stay. I’d forced him to come with me without any qualms, but I wanted him to stay because he loved me. “If you would just listen.”
“I have. I listened to a lot of things, but they weren’t true. This has all been a really nice fantasy, but it’s over now.”
Anger grew in me, overtaking my despair. Why was he so fucking stubborn? Why wouldn’t he listen to me? “Fine. Leave if that’s what you want. Leave as if nothing that happened between us was real for you, as if what you said last night wasn’t real. I won’t stop you. But promise me one thing?”
“I don’t owe you any—”
“You owe me three more days, so promise me this instead.” He jerked back like I’d slapped him, and I wanted to take the words back. “Promise me you won’t go back to working the streets.”
“I don’t know how I ever did that to start with. I’m going to find a way to have something different. I want my dream, and I’m going to go after it.”
I wanted to be the one to give him his dream. Was he really going to walk out? Was I really going to let him?
I’d forced him to stay when it was a matter of his safety and protecting myself and my family, but now… I couldn’t force him to love me. I couldn’t bring back what we’d shared, so what was the point? “Let me get you the money I owe you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want it.”
“Henri, that’s—”
“I don’t want anything from you. Just let me leave.”
I stepped aside and watched him walk away with nothing more than he’d
