Split at the Seams Read Free Page A

the pain.
    “Sierra, I know you didn’t mean any of what you just said,” he whispered. His chocolate-brown eyes had darkened to almost black, and his olive skin looked a little waxy. I’d never realized how much jealousy could affect a person physically. “I’ll call you later.”
    Don’t bother. My heart was still pounding so hard that I couldn’t get the words out.
    Jonathan finally turned away and headed for the door.
    Papan stepped in front of him, towering several inches above him. “If you ever lay your hands on her in anger again, I’ll break them.”
    Jonathan laughed, smacked him with his shoulder and kept walking to the front door. He slammed it shut behind him, and I could hear his manic laughter all the way down the driveway.
    “Are you okay?” Papan’s voice had lost its edge. He sounded softer, concerned, but he kept his distance.
    I nodded, trying to calm my racing heart with shallow breaths. Jonathan had dug his fingers into my skin so hard I could still feel the bruising pressure. “He’s just having trouble dealing with what I said to him. And he’s jealous.”
    “That’s no reason to grab you like that.”
    “No, it’s not.”
    “So…does he have a reason to be jealous, Foxy Lady?”
    I looked up and met his gaze. “I don’t know—why don’t you tell me?”
    Papan took a step forward, just the one. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard what you said to him. I’ll never forget what you’re doing for me, Fox.”
    “That’s not what I asked.”
    “I think you know how I feel about you. If you don’t, maybe I need to spell it out for you.” His sexy grin returned and a shock of dark blond hair fell over his eyes. “Are we playing the same game again, where you pretend you don’t know what’s really going on?”
    “Why didn’t you do anything when you had the chance, months ago?” Oh, God, my heart was running for a different reason now.
    Papan took another step and shrugged. “I guess it took some jerk that smells funny to make me realize.”
    “What do you mean, he smells funny?”
    “I’m not sure what it is, but he smells like sulfur and dirt. But let’s not talk about him.” As I stood there with my arms around myself, waiting for Papan to reach me and have all of the fantasies I’d been dreaming about lately come to life, a knock stopped him in his tracks.
    “Damn!” he cursed, pushing a hand through his hair. “Are we ever going to get this out in the open?”
    “It’s probably him.” The last thing I wanted right now was to see Jonathan again.
    Papan sniffed the air. “It’s not him. You can open the door.”
    “Are you sure?” My skin burned but I chased away goose bumps with my fingers. I took a moment to collect myself, sighed, and then walked past him as I headed for the front door, calling, “Hold up, I’m coming!”
    Papan grabbed a hold of my hand as I passed him and rubbed his thumb along my palm. I paused long enough to meet his gaze, before he dropped my hand.
    I somehow made it to the door and pulled it open. Oren McKee charged inside in a blur of black-and-white. He always wears black everything, and his hair is white and long. Today, it was in a tight braid that swung down his back. His wardrobe also doesn’t seem to take any notice of the seasons. It’s always long-sleeved shirts, pressed trousers and shiny shoes.
    “I thought you weren’t home. Thank God you are!”
    “What’s up? What was so important you couldn’t just call?” So I could finally get this thing with Papan sorted out. I was looking forward to hearing what he had to say. Surely I hadn’t just imagined my ex-boyfriend—I’d just broken up with Jonathan, right?—roughing me up and Papan coming to my rescue. Not that I needed rescuing. I could take care of myself, but it still felt nice to know he cared enough to warn someone away from trying to hurt me.
    The thought made me sad. Was I becoming one of those girls who made up excuses and put up with