“I left something at the church when I swung by,” I said. “He came here to give it back to me.” I didn’t tell the guys that Ezekiel had failed in giving it back to me, but if we waited here long enough for the priest to trudge out of that forest with the cross, he’d undoubtedly try to hand it over again. “I’m tired. I want to get out of here.”
“Oh,” Zander said. “Sure. Let’s go.” He started to head to the cars, while I stood with Luca and Cade—though I did throw a glance over my shoulder to see if Ezekiel was coming.
I didn’t see him, which was odd. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was taking his time in coming back. That said, I shouldn’t be too concerned about it. “Um,” I muttered once I met Luca’s stare.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luca said, giving me a warm smile, a smile that was so unlike his father’s. I couldn’t help but think he had no idea what his father got up to. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon. Although…” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “If you wanted to give me your number, I wouldn’t say no—” Behind him, Cade chuckled and rolled his eyes, which made Luca glare at him.
I thought on it. I probably shouldn’t. Out of everyone, Luca was the last guy I should talk to, let alone give my number to. But, tonight had already been a shitfest, so why not just make it a little stranger? I rattled off my number quickly, and then I said, “I’m not repeating it, so I hope you got it down.” I didn’t say goodbye as I pushed past him and Cade, heading toward Zander near the car.
He’d already turned the engine on, and when I got in, he threw me a look, lifting his eyebrows. “What was that about?”
“I gave him my number,” I said, clicking my seatbelt.
Zander frowned, jealousy written across every feature on his face. He put the car into drive, and we got going. “Why would you give him your number? That’s asking for trouble, in my opinion.”
“If I wanted your opinion on who I should give my number to, I’ll ask for it. But, just so you know, I’ll never want your opinion on that, because it’s none of your business who has my number or not.” I didn’t know how many times I had to tell Zander something along those lines, but I also hoped sooner or later it would start to stick in his head.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”
I looked out of the window, watching the dark scenery go by. “Yeah, I know.”
“I mean it,” he said, with such vehemence I had to turn to look at him. “I do. I know you think it’s just because I get jealous—and maybe I do—but I really do worry about you. I don’t want you to get hurt. If you got hurt, I’d…” Zander quieted. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
As much as I didn’t want to believe it, it really did sound like Zander cared about me. Which was kind of funny, considering he worked for my father… considering everything my father had done. To me, to other people. How could anyone work for that man and genuinely care about other people? The two didn’t go hand in hand.
“In all my life,” I whispered, “I’ve never had anyone look out for me. Father Charlie was the only one, and now he’s…”
“I’m sorry.” It was what he always said when I brought up Father Charlie.
“He was the only one who really cared about me.”
Zander shook his head. “No, that’s not true. You have your father, you have me—” He was probably going to say more, but the fact that I barked out an ugly laugh stopped him.
“You? You’re only here because you work for my father. And as for him… he doesn’t give a shit about me. He only cares about me so he can use me however he wants. I am nothing but a pawn on his board, just like you.” A depressing reality, but it was reality all the same. In this world, you couldn’t pick and choose what was true.
I could tell Zander wanted to comfort me, tell me that what I’d said wasn’t true, so I went on, “Don’t bother trying to convince me none of that is true, because it is. I’m not stupid, Zander. You wouldn’t care about me if I wasn’t the boss’s daughter. And my father is not a man capable of selfless love. He’s just not. I’ve known that my whole life. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what life would be like if my mother was still alive, if she’d be just like my father, or if she’d be different.”
“Giselle—”
“The only thing I know about her is that she was big in religion. My father’s not. He was the one that suggested I start seeing Father Charlie a few years ago. As much as I tried to be like my mother, I’m not her, and no matter what I do, nothing changes. I’m just something to be used by the men in my life.”
It was a damned good thing it was late, that there were cars on the road, because Zander slammed on the breaks and pulled off the side of the road when I said that. He put the car in park, turning his body as much as he could in the driver’s seat to look at me. He didn’t say anything; he just stared at me.
“What?” I asked, unable to hold it in. “Did I say too much? Sorry, tonight’s just been one of those nights that I—”
“You’re not something to be used,” Zander said. “You’re fucking amazing, Giselle, and I wish you could see it. If you could see what I see when I look at you, you’d see a beautiful, strong girl who doesn’t take shit from anybody. You’d see someone who’s better than everyone else without trying. I wish you could see yourself like I see you.”
God. Wasn’t that just sappy as hell? I didn’t know what to say, mostly because I wasn’t expecting him to say that. What the fuck could a girl say to something like that?
I decided to tell him: “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know it. I mean every single word I say, especially when it’s about you. Giselle, your father was going to have someone else following you everywhere you went in Cypress. I offered to do it, because I wanted to spend more time with you.”
It took me a moment, but eventually I met his green-eyed stare. “Why? Why would you want to spend more time with me?” Though I asked, I already knew the answer. Of course I did. I’d known it all along. Like I said, I wasn’t stupid.
I wasn’t stupid, but I wanted to hear him say it.
Now he looked pained, like I was forcing him to say something he didn’t want to. For someone who was so adamant in sharing his feelings, he sure as hell seemed like he didn’t want to say it.