All The Truths - Rina Kent Page 0,20

with her personality. I didn’t want people to get close because I didn’t want to form any attachments. I was an imposter and knew that one day, the real Reina would return to her life.

I was only a watchdog, and in my attempts to remain detached, I royally fucked it up.

Asher carries a plate in his hands as he approaches me at a steady pace. His dark jeans hang low on his hips and his T-shirt tightens around the developed muscles of his chest.

I force myself to look away as a potent feeling of disgust grips me by the throat.

The reality of what I’ve done—and can’t undo—slams against my face.

I fucked my sister’s fiancé.

I lusted after him and clung to him as if I had every right to. Not only that, I also did something so unforgivable, he’s thinking about killing me now.

What the fuck have I done?

He sits on the edge of the bed, setting the tray beside him. “You haven’t eaten since this morning.”

My stomach clenches as if approving of the statement. It’s then I realize I’m still flattened against the wall, facing away as if my life depends on it.

“Where am I?” I ask without meeting his gaze.

“At your apartment.” His voice is neutral, emotionless even. “Now sit down and eat.”

I head to the entrance. Once I find my purse and phone, I’m leaving. Why the hell did he bring me to the apartment anyway? I barely get away with avoiding him in the large house where everyone else is.

“Stop and turn around.” He speaks so low, goosebumps erupt on my skin. “You don’t want me to do it for you.”

You know what? Why should I keep on running away? I did enough of that for a lifetime when I was a kid.

The world needs to stop and face me this time. People need to see me, not Rai or Reina, a Sokolov or an Ellis, but me.

Just me.

The person inside who’s barely holding on by a thread.

With a resigned sigh, I turn around and march over to where Asher sits on the bed.

My bed.

There’s something so intimate about that, and I don’t want to admit it right now.

I lower myself opposite him, with the plate between us. I place both my hands underneath my thighs so they don’t act out on any crazy ideas like reaching out to brush back that stray strand on his forehead.

“Now eat,” he orders.

God, this man and his authoritative streak. I wish I hated it.

If I did, maybe all of this would be easier. Maybe my entire body wouldn’t be on high alert with a full rush of adrenaline.

“I’m fine.” My stomach growls as soon as the words come out of my mouth.

Damn traitor.

“You were saying?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to eat, okay?” I pause. “Why did you bring me here? How did you find me anyway?”

“I followed you.”

I followed you.

Just like that. No explanation, no attempt at apologizing.

Who am I kidding? I’m starting to think Asher isn’t apologetic about anything.

He’s his own brand of atypical, not exactly a sociopath, but something similar. At times, it feels like he does care, but at other times, he completely eradicates that part.

“And why are we here?” I murmur.

“Because.” He takes a spoonful of what seems to be mac and cheese and places it in front of my mouth. “For the last time, fucking eat.”

I glare at him, tempted to throw the entire plate at his face, but that’s no excuse to waste good food.

Besides, I am hungry.

I try to take the spoon from him, but he keeps it away.

“Open your mouth.”

“I’m not a kid, Ash. I can eat on my own.”

“You lost your choice when you were acting like a brat.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “And it’s Asher, for fuck’s sake.”

My eyes cast downward. He’s right; I don’t have the right to call him that, to give him any nicknames or to let him feed me.

He’s not mine.

He’s Reina’s.

That’s why Old Reina always kept him at arm’s length and pushed him away. I can understand her thought process more clearly now.

“Are you going to open your mouth, or should I do it for you?” His eyes darken with malice, and I gulp at the punishing promise in them.

He’ll definitely make me, and I have no doubt that I won’t like my reaction to it.

I slowly part my lips. The spoon clinks against my teeth as he gently shoves it inside. My pulse rises in my throat and I