I’m acting indifferent, like nothing has happened, because really that’s the only thing I can do right now. Although I’m ashamed and embarrassed that I betrayed her trust, I’m even more determined to find out what the fuck she’s hiding.
I’m sick of all the games. Either she’s with me or she isn’t, and if she is, then enough with the fucking secrets. I feel like our whole relationship has been one lie after another. I’m not sure how much more I can take.
I’m already thinking the worst possible scenario. How much worse can the truth be?
It’s just after six on Tuesday morning, and I’m up making coffee. At six a.m. I’m up. Making coffee. Fucking ridiculous. Who voluntarily gets up that early? I’m not sure if it’s the jetlag or this thing with Scarlett that’s messing with my head, but I hate early mornings more than I hate black coffee.
Penny’s text plays over and over in my head: He deserves to pay; not you. What the hell does she mean? Every idea I reject, because it doesn’t fit. Tony said whatever he has on her would be big enough to lose Jake. I’d only met the bloke once, but I knew he’d do whatever he thought necessary to ruin her life.
At the moment I’m thinking it might be something to do with drugs. It’s the only explanation that fits. I don’t condone drug use, but why wouldn’t she tell me that? Surely she knows me well enough now to know that I’m there for her, no matter what?
“Fuck this.” I’m just going to ask her. I’ll come clean about the texts with Penny, and ask her to trust me. There’s no point pretending anymore, because as soon as she speaks to Penny she’s going to know it was me texting her—if she hasn’t figured it out already.
I pour two cups of coffee and head for my room, where Scar is still sleeping. She won’t appreciate being woken so early, but I need to do this now before Jake wakes up. That, and I know I’ll chicken out if I don’t act right away.
I walk over to the bed and sit down next to her. She stirs and opens her eyes, smiling at me as she yawns.
“What time is it?” she mumbles, sitting up. She takes the cup I’m holding out for her.
“Early,” I say. “Scar, we need to talk.”
She winces. “No good ever comes from those words. Can I get dressed first?”
I nod and stand up. “Are you hungry?”
“I could go for some toast,” she replies. She slides her long legs out of the bed and my gaze is drawn to her thighs…her bare thighs… “Ryder?” She raises her eyebrows. “Are you going to let me dress?”
I feel my face heat as she smirks at me. “Sorry,” I mumble, backing out of the room.
“So,” she says, sliding into one of the six dining chairs that surround the table. “I’m guessing this is serious, considering it’s not even seven a
.m.?”
I place her toast in front of her and sit down.
“Maybe we can start with why you were pretending to be me while messaging Penny?” she asks lightly. “You don’t trust me.”
“I picked up your phone by mistake. It’s not like I went out of my way to invade your privacy,” I protest.
“Fine, but texting her pretending to be me?” Her voice rises.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Dammit, Scar. Why can’t you just be honest with me? It’s like its one secret after another with you. Is it any wonder I don’t trust you?”
As soon as the words escape my mouth, I regret them. Her eyes cloud with hurt as I try and backtrack.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You did, or you wouldn’t have said it,” she fires back. She pushes her chair back and stands up, her fingers combing through her long hair. Tears spring into her eyes as she fights to hold in her emotions.
“Scar,” I plead. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I hate that you don’t trust me.”
“It’s not that easy,” she whispers.
I stand up and move over to her, wrapping my arms around her. I kiss her lips, my eyes on hers. “Scar, let me in. Please,” I whisper.
Her head rests against mine, and I can feel the touch of her warm breath on my neck.
“Talk to me.”