Chapter 9
Rowan
I really wish I could get a handle on this guy.
And I really wish I understood why I want to get a handle on him at all.
This is a temporary arrangement. There doesn’t have to be anything more to it than that.
Like he said, two down. Two to go. And once that’s over, we’re finished.
There doesn’t have to be anything more than that—and there shouldn’t be.
I have no business in his world, no business with him.
It would be a lot easier to keep that in mind if he wasn’t so unpredictable. One minute, he’s practically throwing me around, treating me like a thing. An object. Something without any real feelings or thoughts. Like I’m only here for him, for his sake, for his pleasure.
Then he goes and tucks me in with a kiss on my forehead. I’ve never felt so cared for. My brain is screwing with me, is all. I’m so used to being treated like shit that the slightest little kindness has me all confused.
It would’ve been easier to wrap my head around last night if he had left me the way I was, on the floor, trying to pull my mind and my body together after what he did.
Considering how he treated me, how rough and almost brutal he was, to leave me on the floor without a backward glance would make sense.
I could understand that. There wouldn’t be any questions this morning.
I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than what he shows the world. Because for a minute there, he was tender. Sweet and gentle. He treated me like I was more than a few holes for him to fill. Like I mattered.
I’m not an idiot, though. I’m not about to pretend there’s more to us than a business arrangement. He’s getting what he paid for, and that’s it. And if anything, I should be grateful for his consideration. Something tells me that psychopath at the club with the knife wouldn’t be so considerate.
Just the thought of that wack job is enough to get me out of bed. A hot shower helps relax muscles I strained during all that fighting last night. It’s a good thing this is a temporary arrangement, or else I would be walking around with a heating pad all the time.
Even after that, after I fix a little breakfast and some coffee, I can’t get Lucian out of my head. I can’t stop looking toward the bedroom, remembering everything.
That’s it. I can’t stay here all day, going crazy.
After washing up the breakfast dishes, I decide to get dressed and go out.
It’s times like this when I feel the absence of friends.
Other girls, especially. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do, go shopping together?
Granted, I never did like shopping with anybody else.
I loved spending time with Eve, but shopping wasn’t included in that.
Her coming from a rich family was never more apparent than in the times we spent at the mall.
When you grow up without any money, every purchase takes consideration.
It’s a habit I’ve never been able to break. I doubt I ever will.
Nobody has patience for that kind of thing if they don’t understand how it feels.
When a shopping trip isn’t just something you do for fun on a Saturday afternoon.
On top of that, I hate standing around, waiting for other people to make up their minds.
It bores me. I would rather shop by myself, even if I can’t help but feel a little jealous of the girls walking together in groups at the mall.
The grass is always greener, right?
I can’t help but be tempted by the aroma of cinnamon and sugar as I walk past the Cinnabon stand.
Maybe I’ll stop by later before I leave.
It’s been ages since I’ve had one of those completely addictive treats.
There are girls who look to be around my age hanging around the coffee stand, where a pair of cute college-age guys are working.
They might as well live on another planet. They’re so different from me.
What would they think if they knew about the club only a handful of miles from here? I have to bite back a smile. None of them would guess what I’ve seen, what I’ve done.
And compared to Lucian, those guys behind the stand might as well be children. Let the other girls have them.
That’s a dangerous train of thought. I need to stop thinking that way, or else I might end up regretting it.
Lucian’s not mine, and he never will be.
I don’t mean anything to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s given me the funds for this little shopping trip, and he’s made it possible for me not to have to take whatever shitty job hires me first. But that’s where it ends.
As I walk away from the stand, I can’t help but feel like there are eyes on me.
It’s not one of the guys working there, that’s for sure—they’re too busy being flirted with, acting like their job is super important and sexy.
I look around behind me, over my shoulder, but I can’t see anybody out of the ordinary.
Just people walking around, a few older folks who look like they’re getting their exercise for the day, a pair of women pushing strollers.
For one second, I wonder if Lucian is somewhere around here. If he’s watching me again. Following me around, waiting to strike. I wish the idea didn’t excite me the way it does. Like I almost hope he’s watching from across the food court as I walk through.
Just my imagination running away. After the past week, who could blame it?
I decide to stop in one of the department stores at the far end of the mall.
I like the smell of the perfume counter.
It reminds me of shopping trips with Mom when I was a little girl.
It always felt so fancy and special, walking past the makeup and perfume and jewelry counters.
Everything smelled nice. Everything was shiny. So unlike the rest of my life.
I pass the accessories department and eye a couple of cute bags—mine is worn-out, the strap a little tattered after years of use. I make a mental note to stop by on my way out, then continue to the women’s section.
It’s the weirdest thing. I still can’t shake the feeling that somebody’s watching.
Sure, there are security cameras all over the place, but that’s not what I’m feeling.
That’s not what makes goose bumps rise over my arms. It isn’t even the sense of employees watching because they think I’ll steal something, which I’ve experienced before.
“Can I help you?”
I jump about a mile when I hear the girl’s voice right next to me. She backs up a step, eyes wide. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” I laugh, even if my laugh is a little shaky. “I’m jumpy today, I guess.”
“Can I help you with anything?” She gestures toward the T-shirts I’m holding. “I can take them to a dressing room if you want. Get it ready for you.”
“That would be great, thank you.” I hand them to her and decide to look for jeans. I hate shopping for jeans, but I do need at least one new pair. It’s just such a hassle with every brand being sized differently. Men have it so much easier when it comes to shopping for clothes.
I decide to grab a couple of pairs in different sizes to see which fits better.
I’m about to head for the dressing room when a rack full of pretty dresses catches my eye.
They come in different colors—purple, blue, pink, black, and white.
I don’t have any place special to wear one, but I can’t help wondering how one of them would look on me.
I can’t see spending the money on something I might never wear, though, so it’s no use.
This time, when I feel eyes on me, I know it’s the girl who’s been helping. “That would look great on you.” She pulls out a blue dress and holds it up to me, tilting her head to the side. “With your hair and eyes?”
I know it’s her job, and I know she’s trying to make a commission, but I can’t help feeling a little rush of excitement.
She’s right; it would look great on me. “I guess I’ll try it on.
” I choose one in my size, and she leads me to the dressing room, where she’s already left the shirts I picked up earlier.
The dress I’ll leave for last, like dessert at the end of a meal.
The jeans are all sort of a disappointment—the pair that fits my hips and butt best are a little too loose at the waist. I’ll have to find a belt.
The T-shirts fit well but are thin, so the lace on my bra shows up.
Maybe I’ll look for a couple of smooth T-shirt bras before leaving the store.
Better yet, I’ll stop in at the lingerie store a few doors down.
The bottom line is, I have options, and that feels good. Of course, it’s not easy to enjoy shopping when money is tight. But I have a little wiggle room today.
Finally, I try on the dress. It’s not even anything that special.
The sort of thing I’d wear to a wedding or someplace like that.
But it’s pretty, with tiny crystals around the low neckline, and the fabric swishes around my knees.
It’s been a long time since I owned anything nice for no other reason than it makes me feel pretty when I wear it.
I wonder what Lucian would think of it.
I wonder what that says about me.
There’s a three-way mirror outside the door, and I decide to take a look. The salesgirl will probably flatter me to hell and back in hopes of making a sale, but that’s okay. I haven’t been flattered in a long time, either. Sometimes a girl needs that.
My hand is on the knob. I turn it just enough to disengage the lock.
Which is when the door slams open, and I’m shoved against the wall.
It takes a second to understand what’s happening since it’s all happening so fast. I don’t even realize right away who pushed me back into the room.
Until he takes me by the throat and slams me against the wall, harder this time. Very deliberately.