Wrong (A Bad Boy Romance)(48)

“I understand.” I dip my head, afraid to look at him. I’m having too much trouble reading him. He’s not Sal—Sal had every emotion right there on his face, and most of them were ugly. Nick’s different. It’s like he holds everything close until he’s ready to let it go.

It’s the “letting it go” part that has me spooked. I don’t know how explosive it’ll be.

“Good.” He reaches over and touches my chin, tipping my head up so I have to look at him. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Sarah. You have to understand that.”

I nod, though I understand all too well that he’s not just protecting me. He’s protecting himself, his business, his reputation, and the heir he hopes I’m in the process of providing for him. None of this is really about me.

Except…

“Why did you do it?” The question is out of my mouth before I quite have time to think about it.

“Do what?”

“Run in there. Risk your life by going into the bakery.”

He doesn’t answer right away. There’s actually something on his face that makes me think he’s not sure how to answer at all. “I didn’t want you to lose it.” Then his face hardens, and he looks straight at me. “You’re mine, dammit. Nobody tries to hurt what’s mine.”

“Nick, I can’t—”

Before I can finish the thought, he shoves up from the couch. He’s angry now. “You shouldn’t have fucking done it, Sarah. You should have been here. Right here. Where I told you to be. How hard is that to understand?”

I thought we were past that, but apparently not. His eyes are flashing sparks at me. It’s a hot, lively anger, not the cold fury Sal always directed toward me.

“The whole place would be gone right now if I hadn’t.” It’s the only protest I can think to make. “It’s all I have, Nick. It’s the only thing I have that’s really mine.”

“It doesn’t matter. Sarah, I told you to stay put. I can’t protect you if you don’t follow orders.”

“You don’t understand, Nick.” I don’t know why I’m trying to explain myself to him. “That store’s the only thing I have that proves I’m not a failure.” The irony of that hits me suddenly, and I feel my eyes go hot with unshed tears. “And even that’s failing. My parents were right.”

He grabs me so suddenly I can’t react, except to stare at him, eyes wide, as his hand clenches on my face. That anger is still there in his eyes, but there’s something else in it. I’m not sure what it is. Fear? How could it be fear? I’m pretty sure Nick’s not afraid of anything.

“I don’t know what your fucking parents told you, but there is so much more to you than that fucking bakery.”

I shake my head. I can’t really talk right now with his hand half mushing my face—it doesn’t really hurt, but it’s certainly disconcerting. He must see something in my eyes, because he lets go.

“I was trying to make something of myself. My parents wanted me to go into law, or medicine. I just wanted to have a bakery. It’s all I have to prove I actually succeeded at something even though they told me I never would.” The words are small, and I’m surprised I’m even saying them. There’s no way Nick will understand. He’s in the family business in one of the most literal ways a person can be.

But he nods slowly. Maybe he really does get it. “You need to let that go, Sarah.” I swallow hard, my stomach dropping. “You’re too fucking proud. So proud, so stubborn, that you gave up your life for that goddamn loan.” I start to protest, but he’s not done. “And you damn near gave up your life literally.”

“It’s mine, Nick. I don’t have anything else.” I want to scream it into his face, but I can’t draw enough breath. My chest is too tight.

“You have your life, Sarah. Maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you, but it does to me. The bakery’s just a building. It’s plaster and wood and equipment. That’s all. Every bit of it can be replaced. You can’t be replaced. You need to remember that.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Tears go down my face in hot streaks. This isn’t what I expected from him. No one’s ever talked to me like this before—like I actually matter. I’ve always been a means to an end. Even my parents just wanted me to somehow fulfill their own dreams. Achieve some kind of success that they’d pre-formed in their heads. Any other kind of success didn’t count. They never cared about what I wanted.