With a scowl, he growled, “I know that. So, who are you suggesting broke into my apartment to—” When he saw the answer on my face, he groaned. “Oh, Jesus. Are you back on the conspiracy theory that my dad’s out to get me?”
“It makes sense,” I said defensively. And it did...to me.
“Why would he just let Mozart go instead of, I don’t know, killing him? And why—if he did all the other things you think he did—would he bother with such stupid irritating stunts when he could come at me with something so much more lethal, like a gun?”
“Because he’s a bully. Bullies chip and pick at scabs until they get to the meat of the wound underneath. They rarely come at you with an outright assault unless they know without a doubt they’re bigger and stronger and can take you. You’re not a seven-year-old kid any longer; he’s trying to find your weaknesses. And he probably didn’t outright kill Mozart because who the fuck could actually catch that wily little thing to kill him? Why bother even trying when it would be just as devastating for you to find him gone?”
And I could tell it was devastating for him. His green eyes went shuttered with pain as he glanced at the spot where Mozart’s cage had hung. It must’ve really upset him if he’d already taken the whole thing down...too painful to look at.
I hugged myself, glancing at the spot as well. “I hope he’s okay.”
Asher sniffed and shook his head. “He’s probably living it up in some nice park full of plenty of trees and nuts.”
Or he was dead, I silently worried.
Glancing at me with a scowl as if he’d read my thoughts, he muttered, “Thought you were leaving because you’re pissed at me.”
I sighed. “You’re the one who can’t decide whether you regret sleeping with me or not.”
His green eyes went flat with anger. “Oh, well, excuse me for a being a little confused. But you hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me, and that scares the fuck out of me. No one’s ever gotten that close to me with me being so completely unaware of it before. So I’m so sorry if it’s taking me longer than you’d like to figure out if I can really trust you again.”
I shrank inside myself a little, soaking in what he’d just said. I really had hurt him, and on top of that, I’d left him so gun-shy he wasn’t sure if he could trust again. I knew exactly how that felt. When Fisher had left me hurt and deceived, he’d broken my trust and trampled all over my feelings, making it so I didn’t want anything to do with any man again...until Asher had come along.
And yet here I was, doing the very same thing to the one person who’d helped me heal from a similar wound.
Feeling the full weight of my shame, I bowed my head. “You’re right. I’ll go.”
When I turned away, he growled a curse, then called, “Remy...” But I was already rushing up the steps to escape him.
To escape myself.
But no matter how fast I ran, or where I went, I was still there, with me...the bitch who’d wounded Asher Hart.
The urge to race after Remy and drag her back into my apartment festered. Damn it, she was probably crying right now, and I didn’t want that. I’d just wanted my head to stop pounding and a few minutes without questions and lifelong commitments to think clearly again.
Didn’t she understand I’d never been presented with the opportunity to love and be loved before? Not like this. It was scary-ass shit. And to know it had all started with a lie and broken trust...what guy in his right mind would give that another chance?
I guess a crazy, messed-up guy who just wanted his woman any way he could get her. Because a second later, I flung off my sheets and grabbed the first pair of pants I found—the dress pants from last night’s wedding. Fastening them, I raced for the steps. By the time I shoved my way into the alley, she was gone. All I caught sight of was the back bumper of her car as she turned out of the alley.
“Damn it!” I clutched my aching head, and shifted my bare feet over the dirty asphalt to keep broken glass from digging into my heels.
I was going to have to hunt her down now, and I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. Guess I could start with confessing that I wasn’t regretful about last night at all. Last night had been...awesome. But I’d been pissed that she’d tried to sneak out on me again, and I was still finding it difficult to let go of all her lies.
Pick had been right, though. I was going to have to forgive her, because I knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life without her. Last night had opened my eyes to the fact that I did know her. She might’ve deceived me about a couple big things, but inside, she was still that person who’d befriended me, and I wasn’t ready to lose that friend...or lover.