Dair
Page 10Her jaw was set stubbornly, her eyes growing blank in a way I was beginning to dread.
It set me off.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” I raged. “Answer me. What did you think would happen?”
Her tone was expressionless when she answered, but for once, I felt like she was giving me the truth. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. For us to get this far. I just wanted a bit of you, enough to keep me going, but I never thought it would turn into this. Despite all of my better sense, I couldn’t keep away from you once I started.”
I focused on the strangest part of what she’d said, the piece that made no sense to me. “A bit of me? How did you ever even notice me, let alone decide to come after me as aggressively as you did.”
She shook her head, the corner of her mouth raising a bit into a wry smile. “You’ll never get it. You don’t see yourself clearly, not at all. I do. You were just too appealing for me to resist, in so many ways.”
“So that’s it, you spotted me at the gym and decided I was just too hot to resist? Does this happen often?”
She flushed. “Don’t. Don’t do that. And I didn’t spot you at the gym. Nothing was random about us. I knew you’d be there and I sought you out.”
I blinked rapidly, hating that every answer she gave me that felt like it could be remotely close to the truth only made me feel like I knew less than I ever had. “Care to explain any of that?”
She opened her mouth (as though she was actually going to answer!) when the loud sound of the bolt being thrown outside made her pause.
I barely had time to throw a sheet over the essentials before the door was opening, Heath taking a step inside.
He started cursing when he set eyes on us. “What the f**k? I’m closing this door, and when I open it back up, she better be decent, and you better have your pants back on. You have exactly three minutes.”
We obeyed him, because I didn’t particularly want to deal with him without pants on, and I certainly didn’t want him seeing Iris naked.
In what I assumed was exactly three minutes later, the door opened again.
We were sitting on the edge of the bed, side by side, holding hands.
Heath glared. “Dinner time. On your knees, facing the wall, Masters.”
I obeyed, tensing when I heard a gun cocking behind me.
I heard Iris gasp and cry out, “Heath, please don’t—”
“I won’t hurt him unless he tries something stupid.” He told her, voice soothing. It changed suddenly, going back to hostile. “Hold still if you enjoy keeping your head on your shoulders, Masters.”
A long pause, then, back to his soothing voice, “Just go into the bathroom while we bring the food in. You giving me that look is not helping the situation.”
A door slammed (the bathroom, I assumed).
For a few minutes there was no noise except for some rustling behind me, then the squeaking sound of what I assumed was some sort of a cart being wheeled in, chairs being moved, then, “All right, Masters, I’m coming back for this in exactly one hour. When I knock on the door again, you’d better still have your f**king pants on.”
“Can I turn around now?” I asked him, my tone wry.
I turned my head, taking in the situation with a few confused blinks.
A makeshift table for two had been set up for us on a meal cart, with a white tablecloth, and what even looked like decent food.
Heath hovered in the door. I’d clearly heard the sound of at least two men setting this up, though they hadn’t spoken.
They were gone now.
All of this was beyond bizarre. Why had he brought me here, and why the hell had he set up what looked like a romantic dinner for Iris and me?
“One hour,” Heath repeated, backing out of the door.
“Wait,” I said.
“What?” he snapped.
“Thank you for taking bullets for her,” I told him, finding the words very hard to get out. “And for bringing me to her.”
“I didn’t do any of it for you. If you weren’t reading the subtle signs, I f**king hate you. I did it for her. Now eat your dinner, and keep your f**king pants on.”
With that neat little tirade, he slammed the door shut, then bolted it.
I hadn’t even gotten up from the floor when Iris came back out of the bathroom.
She seemed just as confused about the dinner setup as I was.
“Why?” I asked her as I got up from the floor.
She shrugged. “Who knows why Heath does the things he does? I learned a long time ago not to even try to understand it.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“How long have you been mixed up with this guy?” I asked as I pulled out her chair, seating her at the table.
She sent me one of her looks, like I should know better than to ask. “I can’t tell you that.”
Well, at least she hadn’t lied.
I sat down, taking in the table setting. It didn’t fit our surroundings at all, in fact, was way too nice for a dump like this. The hotel was cheapness personified, whereas the silverware and plates looked like something my mother would use at a formal dinner. Like so many things going on here, it made no sense.