“And I’m not your sister,” I retorted.
“No, you’re no
t,” he said, full anger rolling off him now. “Because I’m actually trying to protect you. The day Neve was taken I was supposed to be watching her in the front yard. She was my responsibility. But she’d been annoying the hell out of me all afternoon, wanting me to play Barbies. I told her to go play her stupid baby games somewhere else. So while I was busy climbing trees with my friends, my baby sister was grabbed off the street by some monster. Because of me. My fault.”
I stared at him, stricken.
“So fine, be pissed that I want to protect you.”
“Foster—” I said, stuck tears slowing the words in my throat. “God, that’s not your fault, it was the—”
“No, it was mine. Just ask my parents.”
The words echoed through his big, modern office, pinging through my chest. His parents. The ones who’d left him alone, who’d bailed on him. Now I knew why. They blamed their son for something that some sick criminal did. My heart broke for him, right there in his office, little pieces falling to the floor.
He let out a long breath and sagged back onto the desk, his eyes haunted. “I need you to wear the anklet, Cela.”
I wanted to stay angry, needed to fight the idea of what the anklet represented, but I couldn’t bear the flat, empty look on his face. I went to him, lowering to my knees and laying my head in his lap.
He threaded his fingers through my hair, his voice grim. “I don’t know how to care for someone and not worry, angel.”
I wanted to reassure him, to take that pain out of his voice, but I couldn’t agree to something like this just to make him feel better. I lifted my head and took his hands in mine, meeting his gaze. “I am so sorry for all that you’ve been through. And I wish I could take that all away for you. But this is asking a lot—too much. I’ve spent my whole life under someone’s thumb, and I’m not sure I can ever put myself in that kind of position again.”
“Angel . . .”
“I need some time, Foster,” I said, the bleak truth bleeding through me, making my limbs feel heavy. “To think about all this. We’ve moved fast. And it’s been intense and fun and wonderful, but I’m beginning to wonder if I’m capable of being what you want and need. Maybe I’m not cut out for this role.”
His expression went stony and he stood, rocking me back from my kneel. “Of course.”
I shoved myself to my feet, his icy tone chilling me. “Foster, I—”
He picked up the phone, his whole posture closed off to me. “Lindy, please call a cab for Ms. Medina. She’s heading out. And give Bret a call, too, tell her to come by the office for a chat. Make us lunch reservations at that Italian place she likes.”
I blinked, icicles spiking through my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you time, space, whatever,” he said, hanging up the phone and sitting down behind his desk. “I told you in the beginning, you could always pull the escape hatch. Frankly, you lasted longer than expected.”
The words hit me as well as if he’d slapped a palm right across my face. “So that’s how you’re going to handle this?”
He glanced up, gaze cool. “What? Would you prefer I tie you to the chair and demand you be with me? I’m not going to get on my knees and beg for you, Cela.”
“No, that’s my job, right?” I bit back, hot tears burning my lids.
“Apparently not,” he said, the bitter smirk the final dagger in this disaster of a morning.
I turned on my heel, before I did something stupid—like cry or throw a blunt object at his freaking head. “Thanks for the tour.”
I collected myself in the few steps to the door as best I could and strode out his door, offering a quick good-bye to Lindy and heading straight for the elevators. As I rode down to the lobby, every part of me was shaking—with anger, with grief, and with utter frustration. When I had said I needed time, Foster had looked at me like he’d already known it was coming. Like I’d been some forgone conclusion he was waiting out. I hadn’t been breaking up with him. I’d only wanted to be honest. But he’d cut me off so quickly it was like I’d never meant anything at all.
I’d stayed here for him. I’d taken the risk and put everything on the line.
And then at the first sign of strife, he hadn’t fought for me. Not one bit.
I walked through the lobby, only half hearing the receptionist inform me that the cab should be there in about ten minutes. I plunked myself on a bench near the front windows, wishing I could close my eyes and teleport back to my place. Hell, maybe I should teleport all the way back to graduation night and just stay inside and drink alone.
Unfortunately, no portal to the past or wrinkle in the space-time continuum appeared to save me as I sat there. And of course, the cab was late. Twenty minutes and the receptionist let me know the driver had gotten a flat and was sending another car this way. I pinned a polite smile to my face but groaned inwardly. Dallas wasn’t a place to have a lot of cabs rolling around anyway, especially outside of downtown, but I could’ve walked home faster than this. I should’ve just called Bailey.
A car pulled up a few minutes later, drawing my gaze upward, but it wasn’t a taxi. The shiny black Jaguar pulled into an empty spot, and a tall blonde stepped out. She seemed to move with utter confidence as her knee-high boots clicked purposely over the pavement. The runway-style walk caught the attention of a guy heading out to the parking lot, and he did a full one-eighty turn to watch her after she passed him.