He thought they’d been trying to get pregnant, but she had been on The Pill all along. Lying to him. Deceiving him.
He heard the shower running, but he no longer had any desire to join her. Was she humming? Cold calm came over him and froze his heart. He stayed that way, clutching the contraceptive in his hand, in an almost catatonic state until she exited the bathroom.
She stepped out, wrapped in a large white towel and smelling sweet and fresh. She’d already removed the shower cap, but damp tendrils curled around her face where water had managed to get past the plastic barrier.
“I have an idea,” she said, walking over to him, hands on her hips. “I liked where we ate last night, but how about we stay here and order in tonight? What do you think?”
He assessed her smiling face. A fake smile. His chest burned, and his fingers tightened around the plastic container in his hand. He stood. She finally paid attention and noted he wasn’t in as good a mood as he had been earlier.
“What’s wrong?”
He opened his hand and thrust the container toward her. “What is this?” he asked.
Lines of confusion creased her forehead. “Where did you—”
“What is this?” he asked again. The anger was building. He moved toward her.
She stepped back, away from him and closer to the open bathroom door. “I can explain,” she said in a small voice.
“What. Is. This?” The words left his mouth as a vicious snarl, a sound coming from his voice box he’d never heard before. He didn’t know what she saw in his face, but panic flared in her eyes and she bolted for the bathroom. He followed, but she slammed the door and he heard the lock twist into place.
“Open the door and face me,” he said. He pounded twice with his fist, needing to hit something. Needing to break something.
“Cyrus, you need to calm down,” she said, her voice quivering. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“Open the door and get out here, Dani. Open this goddamn door now or so help me I’ll break it down!”
Her non-response only infuriated him more. Still clutching the pills, the smooth edge of the container cutting into his clenched fingers, he lifted his foot and slammed the heel of his shoe into the wood below the doorknob. The frame splintered and broke apart, and the door swung open and crashed against the inside wall.
Daniella stood in the middle of the opulent bathroom, staring at him with widened eyes. She backed up, hovering in the corner between the counter and shower stall. She thought he’d hurt her, and he wanted to. He’d never experienced this level of anger before. This level of disappointment. This level of pain.
“Get out here,” he said.
Chapter Eighteen
Daniella couldn’t say for sure Cyrus wouldn’t hurt her. Before tonight, if she’d been asked, she would have given a definitive “no.” But the look in his eyes made her confidence waver. She’d never seen such furor, and her heart beat fast in preparation to act quickly.
“No,” she said, refusing to leave the bathroom as he’d insisted.
He walked toward her, and she frantically searched for a weapon against him, but all she saw were lotions, a comb, and a brush. All ineffective. She was completely vulnerable against him. He was bigger, stronger, and with the violent emotions coursing through him, much more dangerous.
Cyrus thrust the pills in her face, and she flinched from the sudden movement.
“Tell me you’re not taking these,” he said.
“I…I had been, but not anymore.”
“You had been?” he seethed. He grabbed her by the arm, his fingers as tight as clamps. He brought his face closer to hers. “When exactly did you stop?”
She swallowed. “A few days ago. I swear.”
“Really?” He laughed, a mirthless, hollow sound of disbelief. “Isn’t that convenient.”