Page 65 of Betraying Him
“I’m gonna be real honest with you, Harley. You don’t deserve her, not in the slightest. That girl is so far out of your league, she may as well be on another goddamn planet, and yet here you are, moping around and feeling sorry for yourself when what youshouldbe doing is going over there, getting on your knees and begging for her forgiveness after the shit you’ve put her through.
“I know you don’t know the entire story, but I promise, as soon as you do, you’re gonna realize I’m right. Shit may be complicated, but it’s never gonna getuncomplicated if you don’t get off your ass and do something about it. But I’m warning you now, if she ever cries because of you again, or ever looks unhappy because of something you did, then no matter how much history there is between the two of us, I won’t hesitate to make you regret it.
“Her dorm number is 12B. If you haven’t sorted this shit by the time I next see you, then we’ll be having averydifferent conversation.”
And then he walks out, leaving us all to stare after him in shock.
I… I…
“I think I need to go.”
FORTY-SIX
SAVANNAH
I grindmy teeth to ward off the emotions filling me and look down at the sea of papers. Marcy Thorn did one hell of a job uncovering this shit about my father, and it seems things are worse than evenIknew.
He’s a sick, twisted, sadistic bastard who needs to be stopped, and I wish like hell I could just go ahead and report him, but I know it would be pointless. All he would do is pull strings to make it go away, then make my life evenmorehellish.
But I can’t just donothing. I can’t just let him roam free while this shit is what happens when he’s allowed to do as he pleases.
I think I need to talk to Logan. I need to know what it is that he’s beenworking onfor the last couple of years, because I’m starting to think he knows exactly how bad it is, and he’s trying to save all those people from—I shake my head and force myself to swallow the bile crawling up my throat.
I can’t even think the words aloud. It’s too bad, too sick, too goddamn horrific. I always thought his threats were baseless,but it turns out he was telling the truth all along. He really can andwouldsell me to one of his fucking friends.
All these years, I thought it was just something he said to make me fall in line… but now I know different.
A knock on the door makes me jump, and a tremor goes through me. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, is that him? Has he figured out what happened to the guy he sent? Does he know I’m trying to take him down?
Heart in my throat, I start shoving all of the papers back inside the folder, not caring if it’s messy or out of order, I just need them out of sight.
“Sav? It’s me,” Harley calls through the door. I sag in relief, before the tension snaps right back into place.
What the hell is he doing here, and how does he even know which dorm is mine?
I throw the folder on the kitchen island and head to the door, my body jittery with nerves.
My hand is shaking as I reach out to open the door, and my entire body vibrates as I come face to face with Harley.
His hair is even messier than usual, his clothes rumpled, and his eyes red and tired.
“You look like shit,” I blurt and then cringe away from him. I’m really not feeling into being punished right now, but where I was expecting anger, he just smirks and steps past me into my dorm.
“And you, look beautiful,” he murmurs.
I frown as he wanders further into my space, belatedly realizing I didn’t invite him in, and I still don’t know why he’s here.
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugs, his eyes wandering around the room.
“It’s weird that I’ve never been here. All these years of… whatever we were, I never came into your space. Just like you never came into mine. I always thought that if we kept things neutral, it would make things easier. Little did I know just how wrong I was.” He turns to face me, a soft smile on his face. “I came because we need to talk. Really talk, about everything.”
Fuck.
I knew this was coming, I just hoped I’d have a little longer to get myself together before I finally had to tell him the truth. I don’t know what his reaction will be, and that’s why I’ve been so scared of opening up to him, even when Iknowhe knows there’s more.
I gesture toward the couch, and he heads over to it, only for his feet to freeze in place as he passes the kitchen island. His fingers trace over the folder sitting there. More specifically, over the name engraved on the folder.
