Page 100 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

Surprise ripples through me. “Akron?” I repeat, my voice softer than I mean it to be. “I thought…well I guess I just assumed that you’d moved way further away than that after…you know.”

“After the psych ward? Well, you didn’t move at all, so at least I did better than you, Winnie.” The words, the casualness of discussing that time in our lives is so unexpected.

So fucking refreshing.

There are a million questions on my tongue about him and his life. About his family, about how people respond when they tell them about the psych ward. If he tells them. But all the questions die on my tongue at the expectation of what the answers might be and how they might not be what I want to hear.

At least not yet.

“Akron, huh?” I murmur, tracing my fingers over my palms. I turn my phone over in my hands, finally forcing myself to open Reagan’s messages while avoiding her frantic voicemails.

I’m fine, I type to her, then hesitate. She definitely deserves better than that. I’d be a shitty friend if that’s all I gave her after what happened.

I’m okay. I got a little hurt in the haunted house. A friend picked me up. I couldn’t find you and I was freaking out a little. That sounds…better. I think. It’s a little better than the first message, anyway.

Reagan’s response is, of course, much longer and more detailed. But my head aches too much for me to read it more than once and I sit in the passenger seat, not knowing exactly how to respond or even if I want to.

“Hey.” Cass’s hand covers the phone, and he tugs it out of my grip before depositing it into a cup holder. “You can talk to her later. We’ve got another thirty minutes or so to my apartment.” His hand comes up, fingers tracing my jaw, before he gently but firmly shoves me back to relax in my seat. “So zone out. Take a nap. She can wait, princess.”

“You don’t know her.” I sigh, but I don’t resist. Especially not when he hits a button and the seat starts warming up under me. “She doesn’t like to wait.”

“Well, maybe she should learn some patience. Now at least close your eyes for me, Winnie. And pretend you’re asleep while I try to remember if I cleaned up all my dirty dishes and laundry.”

Pretending to be asleep lasts all of three minutes, give or take sixty seconds. After what feels like ages, I open my eyes, shifting in the passenger seat as my hand and arm throb. “I’d thank you if you weren’t kidnapping me,” I mutter with a sigh, staring out the window as street lights zoom by on the edges of the empty highway. I’m not exactly sure what road we’re on, and my stomach twists itself into a French knot at the idea of being not only alone with Cassian but also at his apartment, at his mercy.

He could do whatever he wanted to me, and there would be no one around to help me. Not to mention, I don’t know many parts of Akron very well, so running away from him if things go bad wouldn’t exactly be the easiest thing to do.

“I don’t need you to thank me. Besides, it wouldn’t be sincere,” Cassian replies. From the corner of my eye, I watch his hands shift on the steering wheel, until finally he reaches out with the one closest to me and curls his fingers over my thigh.

It’s like he needs to make sure I’m actually here, actually with him, and not going to fade away into nothing. But I know I’m probably romanticizing it in my head, and making more of this than it ever could be.

Because obsession can’t be love.

Right?

Absently, I lift my hand, ignoring the blood on my fingers, and I spread my fingers to mimic his own, pressing down lightly against his warmth. “Good. But if you are looking for gratitude, coffee would get you there real quick.” Turning in my seat, I grin at him mockingly, and he barely glances my way before rolling his eyes.

“You’re such a problem. I was going to wait to ask what happened until we got back to my place, but if you won’t do me the favor of pretending to be asleep, you could tell me what happened?” Cassian suggests. His hand turns over on my leg, and before I can lift mine, he curls his fingers around my own, holding me in place.

But I don’t reply. Not at first, since I’m too busy looking at our interlocked hands on my thigh to think about what to say to him. I wiggle my fingers and his grip doesn’t loosen. Not that I’m really trying to get away from him; I’m just…testing, I suppose.

Myself more than him.

“The slaughterhouse portion of Manic Manor has never been my favorite.” I can hear the tiredness in my voice, and I realize the adrenaline has mostly drained out of me, leaving me feeling sleepy and a little sore. Which, admittedly, is probably because I do my best not to run if I can help it. My poor legs aren’t used to being asked for so much in such a short period of time.

“Reagan and I were the only ones, since the line was empty other than us. We got lucky. Unlucky?” I snort. “Then I got knocked down by a prop, but she went ahead. I don’t blame her. Butchers and fake hanging bodies? It was pretty realistic. Literally the moment I left the room, this guy was in the hall. I thought he was another scare actor, you know? Seeing a masked man with a knife in a haunted house isn’t exactly a red flag.” I scoff at my own words, a frown twitching at my lips as I study Cassian’s fingers.

“Don’t you mind that I’m getting blood on you?” I can’t help but ask, and when I glance at him, I see that he’s giving me that look which says more than his words ever could. “Okay, sorry. You don’t need to call me stupid with your eyes, Cassian.” I wiggle my fingers against his in admonishment for all the good it does.

“Anyway, he cut me, and I realized real quick he wasn’t part of the haunted house. Long story short, I took off and the guy chased me, then I ran into you.” At this point, I really could fall asleep. At least for a little while. I sink back into the seat, pressing my cheek against the cool window and blinking to keep my eyes from drifting closed.

“Did you recognize him? Anything about him? And are you sure it was a guy?” There’s no accusation in Cass’s words, just curiosity. Hell, he’s being calmer about this than anyone else I know ever could be. Honestly, I prefer it. This feels a lot more productive than panicking in a bad situation.

“I’m just assuming it was a guy. Since, you know, men.” I snort, feeling my eyes getting heavier. I’m only keeping them open to spite Cassian, to prove I don’t need to take a nap. “But no, I didn’t recognize anything. It was dark. They were dressed in black with a mask. I don’t know…” I roll my shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know.”

His fingers twitch against mine, but his hand settles a second later as he releases a long, slow exhale. “That’s okay, princess,” he promises. “We’ll figure it out later. That adrenaline finally wear off?” Amusement colors his tone. “I figured it would. Why don’t you go to sleep?”

“Don’t want to,” I reply quietly. “That means you win.”