Home > Dominated (The Enforcers #2)(12)

Dominated (The Enforcers #2)(12)
Maya Banks

He stroked her bedraggled hair, inhaling the sweetness of her scent, a smell he went to bed every night savoring and holding close, cursing when he left their bed the next morning.

“There is a lot I must explain, Angel,” he said in a tormented voice. “Much I must make you understand and pray your generous heart can forgive me for. But never will I let you go again. I will never wash my hands of you. You’re entrenched into my heart and soul, and losing you cut them both right out of my body and only now have they been returned to me.”

“Bitch . . . whore . . . worthless,” she whispered as a fresh torrent of tears slid down his neck.

“No!” Drake growled. “Baby, no! Never. My God.”

Silas was staring at him in shock, and oddly, pain registered in his gaze. Then his expression became murderous. It took Drake a moment to realize Maddox had stopped the car and both men were staring him down, rage emanating from them both.

“Tell me you didn’t say those things to her,” Silas said in a low voice.

“Goddamn it,” Maddox swore. “Goddamn it, Drake! She believed you! She still believes you.”

“How could you?” Silas asked accusingly. “I knew it was bad. I knew what you had to do, but Jesus, Drake. You went too goddamn far!”

Drake closed his eyes, holding Evangeline closer as she wept.

“Just drive,” Drake said hoarsely. “God, get us to the hotel so I can explain.”

Silas shook his head, sorrow creeping into his gaze. “Some wrongs can never be righted. Some words can never be taken back. Especially when they’ve taken root.”

“No!” Drake denied. “I’ll make her believe me. If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll make her believe in me again.”

Worried looks passed between Silas and Maddox. Doubt. Drake felt some of his euphoria over finding Evangeline slip away only to be replaced by dread. Because having her back was only half the battle. Now he had to convince her to stay.


Evangeline resigned herself to the fact that she had no choice but to face Drake. He wasn’t giving her any alternative. And it pissed her off that she was being a weak crybaby and not someone stronger—a woman who would spit in his face, ram her knee in his balls and then tell him exactly what he could do with his necessary destruction of her.

She wanted to laugh at the idea that he thought her desperate enough to swallow that load of bullshit. Necessary her ass.


Gullible was the more appropriate word. And she was certainly guilty of being just that.

Gullible. Naïve. Needy. Impulsive—oh yes, certainly impulsive. Too stupid to live. Just to name a few. And to think she’d patted herself on the back for supposedly learning her lesson after Eddie and walking away from that disaster all the wiser.

She pried herself from Drake’s arms and turned away, unable to look at him and see her own stupidity reflected in his eyes. Instead she fixed her gaze sightlessly through the window and vowed not to shed another tear over Drake Donovan. She couldn’t bear his touch because it brought back all the nights those hands had covered every inch of her body and how much pleasure they’d given her.

What she wouldn’t give to be able to kick his ass. To be one of those women who could stand up for herself. The kind of woman that men respected because they knew they couldn’t get away with fucking her over. She hadn’t even been a challenge. She’d given token protests, knowing the entire time that she would concede and give Drake anything he wanted.

She bit into her lip in disgust. She couldn’t even summon the courage to tear into him with words, knock him down a rung or two. The simple truth was, all she wanted was . . . She closed her eyes wearily.

To be left alone. To be able to go somewhere private away from public scrutiny so she could lick her wounds and forget Drake Donovan ever happened. And then die a very private death, one she’d already died a dozen times in the few days since the blinders had come off.

She wanted to go home. Her desire to be in her mother’s arms was a physical ache. It had been a mistake to come here, for her to think someone as gauche as her could ever exist outside her small-town upbringing, much less fit in.

She snapped her lips shut before hysterical laughter could escape them.

Far more embarrassing than ever believing she could have made a life here in the big city teeming with sophisticated urbanites was the fact that she’d actually allowed herself to think the differences between her and Drake didn’t matter. That she could hold her own in his glamorous world. That she could satisfy a man like him, whose demands were all-consuming. That he would possibly ever be happy with mousy, decidedly unglamorous Evangeline.

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