The lie stung, and each word he spoke crumpled her determined features into a mass of heart-wrenching anguish.

“I don’t believe you.”

A part of him cheered that she knew him so well. The rest of him died under the need to push harder. He shrugged, giving her a look that belied the guilt assailing him. “I’m not going to waste time mourning our marriage. I’m moving on. I suggest you do the same.”

Her face paled, the final blow hitting its mark. He turned, unable to see her like this. Unable to withstand it when he was the one tearing her apart. He strode for the door, each step away from her bringing more agony.

She wouldn’t recover from this. He knew it, because he wouldn’t recover either.

Chapter Fourteen

“T.J.!” Cassie screamed at the door her husband had closed behind him and sank back into the pillows. Humiliation assailed her, dragging tears from her eyes to trail down the side of her face.

He wasn’t coming back to untie her.

She was alone. Sobbing. Trying in vain to fight herself free of the silk scarf he’d tied her hands in. Her skin already burned from the friction, and the pain came nowhere near what she felt inside her chest.

The far-off beat of footsteps approached, the click of a door releasing and the squeak as it was pushed open an inch.

“T.J.?”

“You decent?” Brute. Perfect. Her night couldn’t get any worse.

“Not really,” she muttered. Her nose was a running mess, her skirt raised to her hips, displaying her silken underwear. The only saving grace was the panties that covered her intimate parts…the same parts that still throbbed from her husband’s touch.

He’d never had a problem arousing her. He’d always made it his mission to make her come before him. Usually more than once. So walking away while she was wild with need was a sign she finally needed to sit back and listen to. Her husband was gone, and the man who’d taken his place wasn’t afraid of making her feel worthless and dirty.

“Too bad.” Brute shoved into the room, his features schooled, not showing shock or disgust at how she was tied to the bed, her cheeks tear-streaked, her clothes and hair disheveled. “Looks like you had fun.”

She glared at him as he came to the side of the bed and untangled the scarf on her right wrist. “Yeah,” she grated. “It’s like fucking Disneyland in here.”

He paused, at her uncharacteristically bad language or the crack in her voice, she wasn’t sure. Her wrist fell free with the release of the material and she looked to the far side of the room, unable to stand his impassive scrutiny.

“You took a risk by pushing him.” Brute made his way to the other side of the bed. “Unfortunately, it backfired.”

She glared straight ahead, tugged down the hem of her skirt with one hand while he approached her other wrist.

“Are you going to give up now? I assume it would be better to maintain some sort of friendship, or whatever you normal people have, instead of being unable to communicate at all.”

Neither option had been acceptable before she’d come downstairs. Now she wasn’t sure if never seeing T.J. again was such a bad idea. He’d tainted memories she’d never thought could be spoiled. He was not only destroying their future, he was contaminating their past.

“I couldn’t believe he’d give up on us.” She wiggled her wrist free as he loosened the scarf. “I had to fight for what we had.”

He inclined his head, his expression devoid of care. She would’ve denied he had compassion at all if it wasn’t for the cotton handkerchief he pulled from his trouser pocket and thrust in her direction.

She blew her nose and dabbed at her cheeks. “I was here the night of the masquerade party. He kissed me.”

“You think I didn’t know you were here?” He gave a harsh laugh. “Nobody passes through those doors without me knowing. Although, you did a good job on the fake ID, I wasn’t entirely convinced it was you until you showed up.”

“You knew?” Her voice rose. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell T.J.?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t my place to do so. You obviously went to great lengths to gain entry to the club, and I had no doubt it was to try to win him back. And besides, I wanted to see if you had the balls to show up. I never thought you were the devious type.”

He settled onto the bed at her side, reached for her with a furrowed brow and swept the tear-soaked hair from her cheek, as if the gentle gesture was foreign. “He doesn’t want to hurt you.” The words were barely audible, barely believable from such a harsh man. “We all know that. This is his way of protecting you. Let him. That’s all he has left.”

She growled and pulled away from his touch. “Protecting me from what?”

“The past.” His lips tilted. “The present.” His grin increased. “The future.”

“Is this a game to you?” she snapped, sliding from the bed.

“No.” He stood, facing her from the far side of the mattress. “Kinda feels like I’m in an X-rated soap opera, though.”

She scowled, seeing his actions for what they were—a diversion. He’d shown too much sympathy, and now he was making up for it by being an asshole. Hiding the softer side of himself in an effort to protect his vulnerability.

“I feel sorry for you.” She did. She really did. He was cold. Heartless. Lacking the ability to step out on a limb because he was too scared to be hurt. “You must be lonely.”

“Lonely? Why? I have everything I need—money, prestige and innumerable women at my disposal.”

“You don’t have love.”

He scoffed. “Does it even exist?”

It was her turn to look at him with pity. “Sure it does. I should know. I experienced it with T.J. for years.”

She gave him a sad smile in farewell and then strode for the door. Once she reached the threshold, she paused, realizing she was unable to leave without making her way back up those stairs toward her husband.

“Need me to get something for you?” Brute spoke over her shoulder.

She sagged and nodded. She needed to leave out the back entrance. To scamper away like the dirty vermin T.J. had made her feel like. “Please,” she murmured. “My purse and keys are under the main bar.”

Brute squeezed past her, doing her bidding without a falter in his step. He was probably happy to see the back of her too. The secured door clunked in the distance, cocooning her in silence. She sucked in a breath, waiting, the minutes ticking by like slow, dreary days. She memorized her surroundings, strolling around the furniture, brushing her fingers along the sofa backs.

She refused to glance toward the mirror behind the bar. Her reflection would tell her what her aching heart already knew—it was over. There was no more will to fight. All hope was lost.

In a few weeks, she would be single. Alone. Broken. As if she could shatter any more than she already had.

The swoosh of the door opening startled her, and she made her way toward the newbie area.

“This it?” Brute asked, holding out her purse and keys.

“Yeah.” She nodded, taking her belongings from his hand before wrapping her arms around her chest. “I guess this is goodbye.”

He pressed his lips together, the harshness of his features becoming more sterile as he frowned down at her. “I guess so.”

She held in a caustic laugh and turned on her heel. A Shot of Sin had been a big part of her marriage when it first opened. Now it would be a memory. A brief flicker of remembrance.

“Cass, wait.”

She glanced over her shoulder, to the steely expression that hadn’t faltered. The only difference was Brute’s stance, his arms were raised, held open in front of him.

She pivoted back to him, frowning.

“Come on,” he growled. “This is more uncomfortable for me than it is for you.”

His discomfort brought a brief smile to her lips. “You’re a confusing man, Bryan.”