Page 122 of Tormented

Her eyebrow lifts as I reach for my buckle.

“Come on, now. We’re past this bullshit, don’t you think?”

“Are we?” I keep my hands on the leather and metal—never know your luck.

Abbey huffs out a heavy breath, making her long bangs flutter. “I’m not one of the club whores, Sawyer. You can’t sway me with cheap pickup lines, and lewd suggestions.”

“Well aware, girl.”

Her dark eyes find mine, and she frowns. “What are we?” She flicks a finger between us. “I mean, are we making this an item kind of deal? Or are you out for some fun and that’s all?”

“Do you think that’s all I want? A fun time?” We talked about the whole childhood crush shit, and I warned her that I wouldn’t let anyone else near her. What else did she get from that if not long-term?

“I wasn’t sure.” She ducks her chin.

“Well, I am,” I admit, causing her to look up in surprise. “Nobody’s ever looked at me like you do, as though they’ve thought further than the things I could do for them right then and there. Nobody’s ever looked at me like they wanted a future, Abbey.”

“Not even Ramona?” she whispers?

“Not really.” I shake my head. “Deep down she knew the same as I did, that we weren’t meant to last.”

A small smile creeps across her lips.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just . . . I never thought she was right for you, and knowing that you see that too?” Her hands stroke an even rhythm on her shins. “It makes me feel better.”

I step forward, and drop to my haunches before her. “Why?”

She shrugs, a vague attempt at dismissing what bugs her.

“Tell me, Abbey.”

“I was worried you’d go back to her.”

I sigh, reaching out to wrap my hand around her neck. “Baby, I’m done with Ramona. It was done a long time ago, but neither of us wanted to admit it. We worried about what it would do to Mack.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“You don’t like her,” I point out.

“But at least I have a valid reason.”

I drop my hand away, and rise to my full height. “Which is?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Abbey.”

She looks up at me, clearly startled by the anger in my voice as I uttered her name.

“No secrets, remember? We can’t have secrets if you want this to work.”

Her throat bobs, and she fidgets with the comforter. “When I was eleven, Ramona and a couple of the other girls tried to pressure me into offering myself around, you know, like be one of them.”

“A whore?” I throw both hands on my head while I stare at her in disbelief. I know Ramona can be pigheaded and arrogant at times, but fucking hell, making a kid a whore?

Abbey nods. “Said it’s what all women did to pay their way around here.”