Page 144 of Slumming It


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But now, with the ending only hours away, it was better to finish it here on my own terms – or even better, let Emily tell me to fuck off before she got the other story from somebody else.

It would be better this way.

Not for me.

But maybe for her.

Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself as I followed after her, bracing myself for the end.

Chapter 55

Emily

We'd been driving in silence for twenty minutes now, and the tension was so thick, I could feel it wrapping around my heart, squeezing until it hurt.

Of course,hewouldn't be feeling it, because hehadno heart.

Hoping I was wrong, I snuck a quick sideways glance at Reese in the driver's seat. Behind the wheel, he looked cool and collected, as if he hadn't just given me the kind of sucker punch a girl doesn't forget.

Not physical.

Emotional.

And it wasn't the first one either.

But there he was, driving along the highway with nothing on his mind but land and acres and some stupid cabin that he didn't even want. Walking back to the car, I'd spotted which cabin he meant. It was actually kind of cute, even if it looked slightly rundown.

But soon it would betorndown and tossed into some landfill if Reese Murdock gothisway, which he always did – at least as far asIcould tell.

But forget cabins and land and the rest of it.

I had never met anyone so maddening – crazy, generous, and kind one minute and cruel the next.

Thiswasn'twhat I wanted. And besides, it's not like I'd expected it to last forever, even if sometimes, when he looked at me a certain way, it felt like forever wasn'ttoofar out of reach.

Forever?

Yeah, right.It was just another lie – except in this case, I'd been lying to myself.

Whatever.

I was done.

Screw Reese Murdock and the Ferrari he rode in on.

When I glanced at the clock again, only three more minutes had passed.Damn it.I felt like I would crawl out of my skin if I didn't do something – anything – to take my mind off whatever game Reese was playing now.

Or maybe therewasno game. Maybe he was just casually cruel, the way I stepped on ants and didn't give it a second thought because I didn't even notice they were there.

Could it betruecruelty if we didn't even realize?

And why was I thinking of bugs, for God's sake?

On impulse, I reached down for my purse – a pricy designer one courtesy of yup, you guessed it, the guy in the driver's seat.

Morbidly curious, a few days ago, I'd looked up its price on the internet, and let's just say it hadn't come cheap.

Should I be feeling more grateful?