Dalton had been right all along.
She double-checked on all her customers, told Al she needed a quick break, and headed out the back. Gulping in deep breaths, she put her hands on her knees and let the hurt wash through her.
Two weeks. Not a word since that agonizing night when he'd walked out after making love to her, making her feel cheap. Somehow she still realized his intention to hurt her came from a twisted place inside he hadn't been able to deal with. The man who'd stolen her heart had turned to cruelty like a wolf caught in a trap, ready to gnaw off his own leg to escape.
But his reasons didn't make it any easier to accept. There'd been many roads to choose from, but Dalton had chosen to turn away from the precious seed beginning to grow between them. No amount of force or begging or even sex changed the result of a person's decision.
But why had he come back? Why throw another woman in her face? Was he still so enraged he needed to strike out? Prove a point? Was there nothing left of them he wanted to remember that was good?
Raven stood up, wiping the last tear from her cheek. She couldn't do this to herself any longer. She'd been holding on to a false hope that with more time, he'd come see her. Tonight proved there was nothing left between them.
She owed it to herself to truly move on. Seeing Morgan and Dalton's brothers was hard, but they were kind to her, and she'd forged a friendship with Morgan and Sydney that was important. She wouldn't let him take that from her, too.
Reaching down for inner strength, she said a silent good-bye to the man she loved, knowing they both had to choose each other or there could never be a chance for either of them.
She wasn't going to be a martyr any longer. If he wanted to go back to his usual ways of seducing women, he could do it someplace else, not in her safe haven. She had a right to peace here, at least, until she healed.
Raven went back inside with a new determination.
chapter twenty-seven
The door banged open.
Dalton blinked and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Get out," he mumbled, smashing his face into the pillow.
"Fuck, man. It smells in here."
The clatter of a bottle hit his ears. Shuffling feet echoed. What time was it? Why was someone here in the middle of the night? He lifted his head a fraction, squinting, then retreated from the piercing sunlight streaming through his balcony doors. Hard hands shook him.
"Dalton, get up." Cal stood over him on the right, Tristan on the left. "We've left you alone for two days, but now you're freaking us out."
His mouth felt like a dirty cotton swab. His head pounded. "Fuck you. How'd you get in my room?"
"The skeleton key over the door. Ah, shit, he went through two bottles of your whiskey, Cal."
"I'm gonna kick his ass when he's better, I swear."
Dalton ignored them both, trying to remember what had happened. He'd gone to bed and drank a lot. Stumbled around the balcony. Had he cried looking at the stars? Why?
Raven.
The image of her face hit him, and the bed whirled. She was gone. He'd fucked it all up, like he did everything in his life, and he needed to stay in bed.
"Leave me alone." His voice was barely a whisper. "Just go away."
Cal sighed. "Gonna have to do this the hard way; he's in bad shape."
"Like the old days, right?"
"Yep, I'll get his arms, you do the legs."
"What the-are you nuts?" The covers were whipped off him and he was dragged to the side of the bed. "Get off me!"
"Shit, he's naked. Why does he always have to sleep naked? I'm not touching his balls."
"Shut up and get his feet."
Dalton tried to twist away from them, but their grips were steel. He had a flashback to when he was younger and got drunk at one of his friends' parties. His brothers had found him in bad shape, dragged him upstairs to hide him from Mom, and stuck him in a cold shower while he bellowed and threatened them.
Like now.
He heard the hiss of water hitting tile, and he cursed viciously, trying to slap Cal away. "I'll kill you both! You have no right to come in my room, so get the-agh, fuck!"
The icy spray hit him straight in the chest, and he howled. They kept him in there, forcing him to wash the stink of alcohol and heartbreak from his skin. When he was finally clean, they shoved a towel at him and marched out of the bathroom to wait.
More clearheaded, he took off after them in self-righteous fury. "I'm not a kid any longer, assholes. If I choose to sleep off a hangover in my room, you have no right to come in here."
"We do if it's been two full days. You haven't been to work. You don't answer your phone. Morgan's knocked plenty of times, and she got frantic. What if you had done something to yourself in here?" Cal shouted.