55. Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Three

Devon

I turn and run, but don’t get very far. I slam into a hard, warm body, which has me shrieking. I jerk away, nearly stumbling to my ass. When I right myself, I lock eyes with the intruder.

“You asshole!” I scream, lunging for Tate and beating on his chest. “You could have given me a heart attack. What is wrong with you? Why are you here? What are you doing, you psychopath?” I scream at him, all the while still hitting him. He just stands there and stares at me, that blank expression of his firmly in place. “What are you—”

I stop abruptly, my gaze slowly going back to the bed when I remember what started all of this.

“Did you put that there?” I ask in a low, vicious tone. “Why are you going through my things, Tatum?” I shove him again. Of course he doesn’t move.

I knew he’d make contact with me at some point. He hasn’t spent the last three days stalking me for nothing. But I did not expect him to break into my house and go through my sex toys only to put them on display. I thought he would be normal and ring the doorbell or even do something more Tate-like and drag me out of work, demanding I talk to him.

“Is this your version of some sick apology?” I shout. “Did you think putting that there would make me use it so you could hide in the shadows and watch, you sick fu—”

“You enjoyed me watching you tonight,” he says simply.

I scowl.

“You even put on a little show,” he adds, taking a step closer to me. My eyes widen. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice what you were doing, Devon?” His tone is low, dark.

Why is he talking to me like this? I’m the one who’s mad at him, yet he’s treating me like I’m the one in the wrong here.

“This is different,” I say, panting.

“Oh? Why’s that? Because I’m right here in front of you?” He steps closer and I move back. “Because you have nowhere to go?” Another step. “Because it’s just you and me and you know that you could scream for help all you want, but I’d still get what I want?”

My back bumps the wall and I gasp.

“Y-you wouldn’t do that.”

His brow rises. “No?”

I shake my head, but I’m not so sure I believe that.

He’s been stalking me for three days. Well, three days that I know of. Who knows how long it’s really been? He broke into my house. Went through my things. Touched my sex toys!

Tatum holds my gaze for a long moment. My heart is pounding. My chest aches. I can’t breathe. What is he going to do? I don’t know if I should be scared of him or not. Did he finally snap? Or is he fucking with me?

Just as panic has me feeling like I’m going to pass out, his face falls and he lets out a sigh.

“You’re right,” he says quietly.

“Wh-what?” I mutter.

“You’re right, Devon. I would never do that to you.”

“Then why—why did you do this?”

“Which part?” He smirks.

“Why are you smirking like that?” I shove his chest, this time using the wall to help me, and he stumbles back. “This isn’t funny!”

“No?” he questions, that smirk still on his face.

“I was scared.”

“So, you lied then?”

“No, but… I don’t know!” I run my hands through my hair and go to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face, then fix my hair. I throw it up into a messy bun because I feel like I’m having a damn hot flash!

When I go back into my bedroom, Tate is standing there, staring at my bed.

“What is actually wrong with you?” I shout, still pissed about what he did. In fact, I’m even more angry now than I was before. How dare he break into my house and scare me like that?

He doesn’t look at me, just keeps staring at the bed. His gaze lifts, and he looks around the room, taking it all in. Slowly, his eyes go from the bed to the curtains. The pictures on the walls, my dresser, the bathroom.

Then they land on me.

He shakes his head, giving a little shrug.

“I missed you,” he says, looking absolutely devastated .

“Tate—”

“I missed you so goddamn much.” He’s in front of me in three long strides, his hands cupping my cheeks. “I am so in love with you, it’s sick. I miss you. I love you. I am so sorry. I fucked up. I ruined us. This is all my fault, and you didn’t deserve even an ounce of what I did to you.”

A lump forms in my throat. “I want to believe you,” I say, my voice trembling.

“Then believe me, Devon. Because it’s the truth. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving it to you.”

He searches my eyes, his so full of sadness. Yet there’s determination there too.

“You can’t just come back here and expect me to forget everything.”

“I haven’t.”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I deserve it.”

“But I missed you,” I say on a sob. “I hate how much I’ve missed you.”

He pulls me to his chest, wrapping me in his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. So fucking sorry.”

I grip his shirt and allow myself to cry. It feels good to let it out, but it’s also confusing. Because Tate is the reason all these emotions are here, yet he’s the one who makes me feel better. How can that be fair? How is the person who causes me the most pain the same person who makes me feel the best?

This is not how I expected our reunion to be. I thought I was prepared. I thought I was ready to face him. That I would be strong and confident when I talked to him. Hell, I was waiting for him to find me so we could figure this out. I never expected to be so damn weak.

“I will make it up to you. I swear, Devon, I will do whatever it takes. I can’t be without you. I need you.”

My eyes pinch tighter and more tears fall. I’ve always known this, but hearing it… god, hearing it is everything .

“When I told you I wanted to be better for you, I meant that,” he says, pulling back and using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Everything I said to you was the truth.”

“Then why?” I say in such a small voice.

“I don’t have an answer that makes sense. I think I was so afraid of losing you that I let myself believe you’d hurt me because it’s what everyone else did. Though it wasn’t something you would do, it’s something that would happen to me. It was easier to believe that than to think I’d actually have something as good as you in my life.”

“Why is it different now?”

“It’s been different, Devon. At the auction, I was angry. Yes, I bought you to get revenge, I can’t deny that. It was wrong, I know. But all it took was that weekend for me to remember why I loved you so much. Then I realized I’ve loved you the whole time—and that made me angrier. I didn’t know how to work through it, so I kept pushing forward. I’m hard to love, Devon. I know that, but—”

I put my finger over his lips to stop him from talking. “Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Tate. That’s why this hurt so much.”

He sighs, shaking his head. I pull my hand away.

“I need to show you something,” he says .

“Okay,” I say carefully.

He links our fingers together and leads me out of the room. I follow without question.