Nothing moves.
But that doesn’t mean nothing is there.
It would appear my little raven, no matter how psychotic, sassy, and clever, is scared of something.
I step out of the car, button my jacket, and cross the street, ready to pull my gun at any second if need be.
I take the stairs two at a time, and when I reach her door, I knock.
“Leonore.” I keep my voice even. I saw the fear on her face when she fled the restaurant, which she most likely thought I hadn’t noticed. The thing is, I always notice where she is. In every room, my gaze naturally finds her. “Open the door.”
I get no response.
But I can feel her on the other side of the door.
“I’m not leaving until you open this door.” I try for a gentler tone, not at all accustomed to “softening” my edges. Especially with this woman who enjoys sparring with words and threatening me with scalpels and guns. But this woman on the other side, beneath the mask of Leonore, is all of those things and more.
I imagine her inside, staring at the closed door and weighing her options. She knows a closed door is not a deterrent for me.
But I decide to remind her.
“You know there is no stopping me from getting inside this apartment. So how about you save us both the headache and open the door before I take it off its hinges.”
I could have this door down in under ten seconds. But I would prefer she let me in because I want her to trust me. That thought stops me.Trust me?
The deadbolt slides, the handle turns, and when she opens the door, she looks feral, her mouth a sneer and her gaze haunted. My savage little creature is in fight or flight.
I look past her to scan her apartment, taking in the details to try to make sense of what is going on. She’s terrified, and I am here to find out why.
Two bags sit by the door. I look at them, then look at her.
“Going somewhere?” I ask.
“I’m just not that interested anymore.” She tries to casually shrug away, but it lacks in any of her wit or humor. It’s a patheticattempt, and even she knows it. So she quickly adds, “Silas, please just go.”
It’s the sincerity of the request and the fracture of the mask that has me assessing her. She holds a fierce gaze, and she looks as if at any moment she’ll reach for the knife just so she gets her own way.
“No.” I curl a cruel smile.
Her gaze burns with rage. Good. At least she’s still fighting.
“Your fucking is hardly anything you think it is, so just move on.”
I step into her space, pressing her back to the kitchen counter. “You and I both know that’s a lie,” I sneer, but my cock grows thick even under the manic circumstances. I have no intention of taking her right now, not like this, but that’s what this woman does to me. She makes me crazy the moment I’m in her vicinity.
She goes to reach for the knife, but I’m quick to snatch her wrist. She shoves me, hard, but I don’t move. “Just leave me alone.” She tries to break out of my grasp like a caged animal gone feral, her hair a wild mess.
“I don’t have time for your stupid fucking games!” She screams as I pin a knee between her legs, pressing my body weight against her so she can’t struggle. Her gaze burns, even as she continues to try to do exactly that.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure her.
“You don’t understand,” she growls, baring teeth as she looks up at me.
“No, I don’t,” I say. “But I don’t need to understand anything right now. Pick up your bags.”
“What?”
“We’re leaving.”
