My luxurious living room spreads out before me, dim in the absence of lighting effects and overlooking the neighborhood.It currently looks like a mess with clothes all over the place, boxes of takeout, and my laptop whipped open.All I have done these past few days is binge-watch and eat.
My heart clenches when I notice the blank canvas in a corner, and a palette of fresh paints.It makes me feel like a lost cause.I’m so useless, I can’t even do what I used to love the most.
I unwrap my dark goddess braids from their tight bun, running my fingers through them.Tears gather at the back of my eyes, but I push them back because I’m not ready to break down just yet.
I trudge to the bathroom, unbuttoning my blouse and stripping out of my jeans until I’m stark naked under the shower.
My breath hitches and hardens when my brain replays the earlier incident.It goes on like a loop, crashing with suppressed memories as my eyes drift shut.The cold water runs down my body in rivulets, and I almost feel like I’m drowning all over again.
Her face, her vibrant smile—and then, the dead, haunting look in her eyes haunts me thereafter.
I’m gasping for breath when my eyes snap open.
“Beautiful.”
I whirl around sharply.
I stop breathing for a second.
A man is standing in the shower with me.Not just any man.The man from the alley.I had only seen his silhouette, but I know deep in my guts that he’s the one.
His eyes, an icy shade of olive green, dig into me like a knife stabbing into my skin.It makes me feel—in ways I haven’t felt since the accident.His gaze is both heated and provoking, scoring every inch of my naked body with intent to devour.
The shower lighting lets me make out the dirty-blond shade of his hair, tamed in a clean buzz cut.His face is clean-shaven, drawn into a rigid mask of intimidating cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and thick brows.
His aura is not just cold.It’s wicked.He’s wrapped in fire alarms that should send warning signals to my brain, but I have never been fascinated by someone in equal measure.
“How did you get in?”My voice is low, controlled, even, contrasting with my raging heartbeat.
“You are not that much of a fast runner.I snuffed you out immediately.You left your door unlocked, too,” he states shrewdly.
His steps are measured and panther-like as he closes the distance between us.I try not to flinch.
“You were following me.”I suck in a breath.
He stops before me, towering over me.I barely reach his shoulders.My toes feel stimulated enough to push me up a little as my nipples harden because of the warmth coursing between us.
“Why did you run?”His voice, dark and gravelly, kisses my skin, and I’m tempted to screw my eyes shut.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him it was because I was scared, but for some odd, twisted reason, I don’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“Are you going to kill me?”I whisper.
“I could.”He cups the back of my head, sinking his fingers into my braids.
“Then do it,” I spit out.“You’ll be doing me a favor.”For a fleeting second, the other time, when I saw him shoot that man, a part of me wanted to stay still so he would find me and shoot me too.
Death is far better than being constantly tormented by survivor’s guilt.
“Unfazed.Impressive,” he murmurs.“Get on your knees.”
I sink to my knees before him at his command, like he’s some sort of god.Maybe he is.The god of cruel, dark vengeance that’ll finally descend upon me with what I deserve for the pain I’ve caused.
He snatches my wet blouse from the floor and crouches before me.My buds peak to life.It’s strange how my body comes alive before a man who took someone’s life in front of me.
Then he leans forward and wraps my hands in a grip before tying them up.
“What are you going to do?”I swallow thickly.
