Frustrated, I push a cart out of my way, putting my hands on my hips. I look up at the ceiling. I thought for sure she was here since this was the spot she disappeared. I rub my eyes with one hand and open them back up.
Plumbing pipes run across the ceiling. I follow them and they disappear into the wall. Why would you need plumbing running into the wall facing the alley? I move closer to that wall and move a few boxes out of my way. No door.
I move back into the store, walking across the hall. One bookshelf is slightly ajar.
Oh, you sly little bunny.
I dragged it open to see a heavy oak door behind it. I turn the handle.
locked.
Taking out my picks, I work on the lock, and it clicks open after a few tries. I slowly open it and step in. The flickering light from the street lamp dimly shines on my little bunny sleeping on her side, her hand cradling her cheek, the blankets all bunched up between her knees, exposing her sexy ass to the light.
My heart stops and picks up speed again. I want to grab her and shake the shit out of her. I want to kiss her. My hands itch to stroke her soft ass and spank her at the same time.
I move toward the bed and slide one strand of hair that escaped her braid away from her face. She looks so peaceful lying there, unaware of the monster leaning over her sleeping form.
I straighten up and take a seat in a small chair under the window. I watch her all night as she tosses and turns in her sleep. My eyes never leave her sleeping form as the room turns a light shade ofgrey from the upcoming sunrise.
She moans and rolls over, putting the pillow over her face, then she throws it on the floor, covering her eyes. She’s awake now.
“Morning bunny. I hope you slept well. I know I didn’t. As well as half my security team.”
She scrambles away from me, and I grab her ankle, hindering her escape. I grab her other ankle and trap her with my knee to her thigh, and I can’t help it. My hand slaps her ass cheek and then the other. She screams and calls me an animal. I slap her ass two more times and let her go.
She goes flying off the bed onto the floor on the other side, and I can hear her sobbing. Gathering her clothes off the floor, I throw them at her, telling her to get dressed and I leave. Right now, I can not contain my anger. I’ll do or say something I’ll regret. I head down the book aisles and out to my car.
I get in and take a few minutes to count to ten and breathe deeply. I stare out the window. No lights turn on indicating she is even following my orders. My anger flares again. She had better be getting dressed because if I have to go back in there and drag her out, I will.
I start the car and pull up in front of the door. She comes out and gently sits down on the seat. I bet her ass is burning. Good!
“Phone”. She will not run to Sebastian or Anna; she is taking her punishment like a big girl this time. I put it in my pocket when she hands it to me.
I drive and she’s crying, soft little sobs as she tries to hide behind her sweater sleeves. Fuck that, she ran away from me to hide in some shithole bookstore? Why didn’t she just go home and hide in her room like a normal person?
Nothing about Isabella is normal. Since the time she stumbled into my mother’s sitting room, she has been nothing but a tear-filled, sobbing disaster.
The Present
We get home and I pull up to the house. I get out of the car and leave her there. She can sit in there for all I care. I hit the top step, and Carlos comes flying out the front door.
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting in your office for over an hour. Anna will leave for work soon.”
I toss my keys at him and tell him to park the car. He sees Isabella in the passenger seat, and I leave them both to go into the house.
I pace by the stairs, debating what I should do with her. Do I send her to her room, lock her in, and leave her there until I return, or do I drag her into my office and talk this through?
What I really want is to wrap my hand around her throat and back her into a wall and kiss the shit out of her, then make her ass pink all over again.
I hear the door click, and I stop pacing to look at her. Her eyes are red from crying, her hands are tucked up in her wet sweater sleeves, and her nose is pink from wiping it. Her long black braid is frayed from sleeping on it. She looks so fuck’en beautiful and fragile. I walk toward her and she cringes and backs up, hitting the wall, and pressing her shoulders back as far as she can.
She is terrified of me now and she should be when I am in this mood, but I also know that if I keep pushing, she will never accept me. I tell her to go shower and meet me in my office in an hour. That will give me time to get my shit together.
I walk away and leave her standing with her big green eyes glassy with tears.
I close my door and go to my desk, slamming my hand down. “Fuck!”
I plop into my chair and rest my head on the back of it. I’m so fucken tired, but I have a full day ahead of me. Closing my eyesI try to calm myself down. My father is the epitome of calm in times like this when emotions override clear thinking.
