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“What was that, baby?” I asked as I stalked toward him, chain still in hand.
“Got it. Jesus. Get in the car, you fucking psycho.”
“I’ll walk.” I dropped the long chain into my bag, my glare on him as I passed by him and into the night air.
I needed to breathe.
I needed to get the smell out of my head.
I needed the memory of his weight out of my mind.
I needed to fill my ears with anything other than his voice.
I needed him.
A couple days later, I was waiting for Kieran on his dresser when he came home.
I’d grown fond of that particular piece of furniture.
When he stepped into his room, his steps didn’t falter, but his expression showed all I needed to know. It fell into a mixture of pain and frustration before the corner of his mouth tilted up.
He moved toward me without making a sound.
If I hadn’t been looking at him, I wouldn’t have known he was in the room with me.
Grabbing my chin in his strong fingers, he pressed his lips to mine.
The kiss was rough and full of everything I’d just seen on his face, and lasted only a second before he released me to head toward his bathroom.
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sp; I could see the mirror from where I was sitting, and my chest heaved from the sudden ache there at his reflected expression. At the tortured look in his eyes that continued to break through his maddening mask of silent fury.
He didn’t once look at me as he turned on the shower and stripped, tossing at least a dozen knives onto the vanity. He didn’t look back as he stepped in.
He hadn’t said a word.
And it made my stomach knot.
I hated the feeling. I hated feeling like I’d done something wrong when I hadn’t. I hated being at the mercy of a man.
I told myself to leave. To get out before my heart could be more corrupted than it already was by this man. But I couldn’t make myself move from my spot as I waited for him to come back.
I belong to no man, I repeated to myself over and over again. But even in my own mind, the words now sounded weak. No longer held any weight behind them.
“He’ll only ruin you,” I whispered as the water shut off.
If he was surprised I was still there, he didn’t show it.
If he was trying to make me go insane by his unhurried movements in drying off and putting away his knives and old clothes, it was working.
He finally stepped in front of me to get dressed, and after a piercing look directed at me, I slowly lifted my legs to cross them on top of the dresser.
“Didn’t you miss me?” My voice wavered and sounded so defeated that it held none of the usual bite.
Damn my emotions. Damn my ruined heart.
He blew out a rough breath and slammed the drawer he’d just opened without grabbing a shirt. Raking his hands through his hair, he said, “Of course I fucking missed you, Jessica. I know I can’t stop you from leaving, but for you to leave after what you told me? I’ve been going out of my damn mind worrying about a girl who doesn’t want me to worry about her.”
