Titan’s hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. He plucked the phone from my fingers with his other hand. The quick movement—and his hand getting so damn close to my face—had me flinching away and lifting my arm to shield myself. It was another instinct of mine, and it was a telling one.
Titan immediately dropped his hold on me and stepped back, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “What the hell, Yve? Did you think I was going to hit you? Jesus, I might be a total dick sometimes, but the only time I’d ever hit a woman is when I’ve got her bent over, ass out, and pussy dripping.” His wounded expression made him seem more human than anything he could have done.
Mortification rushed over me in hot waves. I backed away, the tumbler sliding through my sweaty palm until I set it down with a clunk on an end table. I flew out of the room and raced down the halls of the huge house, intent on getting the hell out of there. But I didn’t know where to go.
I should’ve walked out as soon as I knew whose house this was.
“Yve, wait.”
Titan’s voice came from behind me. Something in his tone made me freeze in mid-stride. I didn’t turn, but my shoulders hunched forward as if my instincts were screaming at me to protect myself.
I wasn’t a victim. Not anymore. I was a survivor. And I never wanted to see anyone look at me with pity again. Shoulders back and spine straight, I whirled around to face Titan.
Concern creased his features, an emotion that looked completely wrong on his arrogant face. I hated it, and the urge to lash out clawed through me.
“I don’t feel the need to be interrogated by you or some cop. If you don’t want me in your house, I’ll be on my way.”
“Not until you tell me who hit you.”
His nostrils flared and his hands were curled into fists, but surprisingly, my fight-or-flight response faded. I didn’t feel threatened anymore. He wasn’t pissed at me, but for me. That was new and different. Still, it didn’t mean I was about to share my pathetic story. Who wanted to admit they’d been beaten and let it keep happening? Or worse, that at the time I’d believed my husband when he’d told me it was my fault.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Except it did matter if my intuition was right and Jay had been in my apartment. Then it would matter very, very much. The day I’d testified in open court, at the trial that had sent him to prison, he’d sworn he’d never let me go. But then his grandmother had pushed the divorce through as soon as the court would grant it.
Even I appreciated the irony of the situation, that someone in his family had been the one to set me free from that nightmare forever. I thought about Ginny’s visit to Dirty Dog. The woman who’d helped me then was trying to help me again now, but this time she was trying to help me straight out of town. Did she know something I didn’t? Had she really told me the truth when she’d said she didn’t know when Jay was getting out?
I’d gotten so caught up in my thoughts that I completely checked out for a few moments. Titan was staring at me, studying me, and as soon as I was conscious of it, I felt the weight of his inspection all the way to my bones.
“I’d say it matters a whole hell of a lot,” he said finally.
“And I don’t know why you’d care.”
“Because something scared you bad enough to run, and I don’t think you scare easily. I may not be a good guy, but I’d fuck up any man who hurt a woman.”
I snorted. Right. Lucas Titan, billionaire, asshole of the first order, was probably a man who wouldn’t even fetch his own newspaper, let alone go after someone who hurt a woman.
“You don’t believe me? Do you want me to prove it to you?”
I outright laughed at this. “Quit, Titan. You don’t need to go ghetto and throw down. I’m fine, and nothing needs proving.”
He opened his mouth to protest but my stomach growled. Loudly. I expected him to ignore it, but the man continued to surprise me.
“When did you eat last?”
I thought back to earlier and all the craziness of the day. “I don’t know. Breakfast, I guess.”
“Come on. Follow me.” And he walked off down the hall, not even slowing to see if I was coming.
I guessed in Titan’s world, when the king said “follow me,” he didn’t have to wonder if his orders would be obeyed. My stomach growled again, and that was the only reason I hurried down the hall after him.
I RARELY WONDERED IF SOMEONE would do what I asked. But with Yve, I was learning quickly that she was more likely to do the exact opposite. In a way, she reminded me of Levi when he was a kid. He was just eight years old when I became his guardian, and the years that followed had been . . . difficult.