Page 57 of Poisoned Pawn
She narrows her eyes at me. “And you just jump into bed with the man who abducted you?” she snaps, pointing outside to where Carter is.
“Screw you, Roxy. This is not fucking Stockholm Syndrome. He didn’t abduct me, not the way you think. And you don’t get to judge me, not for what I do or who I choose to fuck!” The words burst from me in a rush of anger, and even though my heart jolts at the thought I’ve hurt Roxy, I don’t regret it.
I can’t.
“I know who Carter is and I know what he does. I’m not asking you to like it, but I am asking you to respect my choices.Mychoices, Roxy,” I say, then I jog up the stairs before she can stop me and shut myself in Carter’s room.
Leaning against the door, I tip my head back and close my eyes. I have never spoken to Roxy like that. But her accusations riled me up something rotten. She doesn’t understand me, and that’s partly on me because I shut her out. That’s not an excuse though. Baggage aside, me getting with a guy was always going to be contentious.
Voices drift up from downstairs, slowly getting louder and louder. As soon as I open the door, I hear him.
“Where is she?” Carter demands.
I step out onto the landing and watch as Carter steps toward Roxy.
“Where the fuck is she?” he demands again.
“Back the fuck off, man,” Zak growls, stepping in between them, and pushing against Carter’s chest.
Carter throws Zak’s hand off with a growl. “Fuck you!”
“As appealing as that might sound to some, I’ll pass. Now step the fuck back.” Zak lifts his gaze to mine, and Carter’s follows. “You wanna protect her and that’s fucking admirable, but this is their fight.”
Carter’s intense gaze burns into mine. I can’t look away. He’s furious. I can feel it as if it were my own. He breaks the connection and storms from the house, slamming the front door. Zak steps into Roxy, cupping her face and whispering something to her as I descend the stairs. I stand at the bottom, giving them their moment, and after dropping a kiss to her lips, Zak walks this way.
“Thank—”
“Don’t thank me, Star. I’d like to put him in the ground. But I get it. If you want Rox to understand, then you need to talk to her. Don’t shut her out anymore.”
“Okay,” I say, knowing he’s right. He drops a kiss to the top of my head, then disappears outside.
Where the fuck do I even start with explaining any of this to Roxy? I look down at myself wearing Carter’s blood-covered t-shirt. I try to put myself in Roxy’s shoes; thinking I’d been taken again after three attempts on my life, to then find me standing next to a dead body wearing a bloody t-shirt belonging to a man hired to kill me. Let’s not forget the fact I was just about to let him fuck right there and then.
“Star—” Roxy starts but I stop her.
“Please don’t. Just let me…” I suck in a deep breath, then blow it out slowly, words tripping off my tongue in a rush. “I met Carter at…a club. We didn’t exchange names, and I had no idea who he was. He was in my house that night, saved my life. Then again at Gambino’s. He gave me his car keys so I could get away. And when he found me later that night, he took me back to his. He told me there was a bounty on my head and that we had to leave. And then we ended up here.” I may have missed out several bits of information, but that’s the gist of it. It’s an emotionless jumble of words that paints barely the outline of a full picture.
“Sounds romantic,” she mocks, raising a brow at me. “I know about Illicit, Star. And before you get pissed, I wasn’t keeping tabs. A friend saw you there.”
Heat creeps up my neck and shame knocks at my door again, and I look anywhere but at Roxy for fear I’ll see shame and disappointment in her eyes. But she’s not having that, and I should have known better. She steps in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “Hey, look at me.”
When I don’t immediately comply, she drops my hands and clasps my face instead, raising my head until I have no choice but look at her.
“It’s me, Star. You can tell me anything. Even the things you keep locked in the vault. I would never judge you.”
“But you are judging me, judging Carter.”
She blows out a breath through her nose, tilting her head. “Not judging. Testing him.” I frown. “You didn’t honestly expect to bring a man into this family and not have every member look at him like he’s the enemy, did you? No man is good enough for you.”
This time I roll my eyes, partly because I know her words are the truth and partly to prevent the tears that I can feel building from falling. I have no doubt that by the end of this I’ll be crying, but I’m going to hold out as long as possible.
“That’s so cliche, Roxy,” I say, lightening the moment a little.
“It is,” she says with a smile, releasing my face, but she retakes my hands, her face turning serious again. “He’s certainly not who I imagined you with.” And before I can call her out, she continues, “Not judging, surprised is all. What is going on between you?”
Her question causes a ripple of nerves to scatter up my spine. I’ve never shared any details of what happened to me as a child with Roxy. Even my therapist isn’t fully in the picture.
As if she knows her question has made me uncomfortable, she adds, “I might have been pissed when I arrived, but I’m not blind. Things looked intense between you out there, and the tension in here just now was…”