Rough Hard Fierce: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set (Chicago Underground #1-3)

There she went again, quoting Alice in Wonderland. Using silly to cover up the serious. I moved to the kitchen and packed the plates in the cabinets.

“You know what I think?” she called from the sofa. “I think he’s sulking.”

I almost thought for a minute that she was talking about Philip, and then I would have agreed that yes, maybe he was. But her voice was way too contented, and that meant she wasn’t talking about her man problems, but mine. I poked my head through the bar to look at her. “Colin doesn’t sulk. He’s angry at me. You know, for not telling him about the cops and Andrew and all that.”

She looked puzzled. “But his brother tried to kill you. Doesn’t that mean he loses his right to be mad at you anymore?”

Hmph. That’s exactly what I thought, but apparently not.

I folded up the box I’d emptied and plopped down on the armchair beside Shelly. “This chair is harder than the floor,” I said.

“Rich people,” she said, shaking her head.

“You’re a rich person.”

She laughed softly. “I know.”

“Just how much money did Philip give you?”

“Way more than I’m worth.”

My curiosity sparked—what did she do to him?—but no. This was Philip, who I both knew and disliked, and I didn’t need the mental images.

“What do you think I should do?” I asked.

“I think you should make him talk to you,” Shelly said.

“Yeah?”

“Or maybe give him time to come around,” she said.

“That’s the exact opposite advice.”

She shrugged. “What the hell do I know about relationships?”

Point taken.

It had been a week. In only a couple of days it had been clear I was physically recovered, but we still hadn’t really talked. We still hadn’t had sex. He barely even acknowledged me.

He’d frozen me out for one week. Surely he couldn’t last much longer.





Chapter Ten


When I woke, it was dark and still, but something prickled at my awareness. I turned my head on the pillow to see Colin standing beside the window, staring between the slit in the curtains, all big and solid and beautiful. I loved him. Well, clearly I’d hit my head. I’d turned into a sap.

But I did love him. I’d proved myself to him, when I hadn’t given the cop information. And he’d proved himself to me, when he’d trusted me about it. It didn’t fix everything, but it was enough. It should be.

I slipped from the bed and padded across the wood floor. He didn’t move, even when I laid my head against his back.

“You never said if you liked them,” I said.

There was a short pause. “Like what?”

“The curtains. I made them, so they’re kinda wonky in places, but they’re a hell of a lot cheaper than what they were trying to sell. If you don’t like them, I can—”

“I like them fine.”

I ran my hands up the smooth muscles of his back to his bunched shoulders. “You’re so tense.”

He said nothing, but he didn’t move away, so I kneaded gently. I hated that he was so upset. If he’d just open up, I could fix it, surely I could. Maybe it was just a high, but after facing the cops, both dirty and clean, and coming out on the other end intact, I felt invincible. I could be normal. We could be together.

He sighed, and his shoulders relaxed just slightly.

“I want to tell you something,” I said.

He tensed even tighter.

“No, no,” I soothed. “It’s nothing bad.”

I waited until he’d leaned back into my hands again, urging me to continue.

“I don’t expect anything from you when I say this. It’s just that, after everything that’s happened, I feel like I should tell you.” I slipped my hands around his waist. “I love you.”

He bolted away so fast I almost fell over.

“Shit,” he said as he steadied me.

I tried not to be offended. And failed. “Shit? I mean, not that I expected you to say it back, but shit?”

He paced away from me to the other side of the bed. What was he scared of? His hard expression told me to leave it alone, that I’d never know, but I couldn’t.

“Are you that mad at me? I can’t even love you while you’re mad at me? Well, too bad, because I do. I love you, I love you, I love you—”

He turned and left the room.

Well. That could have gone better. It didn’t matter to me that he said it. I figured a girl who deserved Colin had to learn to read his actions, not his words, but even his actions hurt at this moment.

We were so close. We had everything right there, within our grasp, but he—what? He didn’t believe in it? He didn’t want it?

I wasn’t good enough.

No, dammit! I wouldn’t go down that path again. It wasn’t so much a path as a sinkhole. I’d fallen into the ice, or been pushed. I’d treaded water, stuck, as people gave me pitying looks. No one wanted to come close for fear they might fall in with me, except for Colin.