Page 21 of Not Another Dark Romance

Page List
Font Size:

“Nah, but admit it. I’m growing on you, huh? At least, a little bit?”

“No,” he quickly dismisses, but I don’t believe him. He’s not a good liar. I’m starting to pick up on his tells, and not only does he blush when I flirt with him, but he answers far too quickly when he’s lying.

I grin. “That sounded like a ‘maybe’ to me.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Mm. You sure? Because I’ve read a lot of dark romance, and that’s exactly how it starts. Grumpy, emotionally repressed man kidnaps the hot, charming one⁠—”

“I did not kidnap you because you’re hot. If you would’ve just died when I first hit you with my truck, we wouldn’t even have to be in this situation.”

“Oh, wow,” I deadpan. “That hurts, Zane. Deeply. Also, you didn’t deny you think I am hot.”

He rolls his eyes again, but he doesn’t look away. “This isn’t a dark romance book, Mason.”

Still not denying that he thinks I’m attractive. Maybe he really is keeping me alive so we can live out my fantasies, and whatever ones he has in his own depraved mind, slowly working up the courage to follow through with them after I’ve earned his trust.

“Feels like one,” I shoot back. “You’ve got the whole vibe down. Basement. Handcuffs. Cryptic threats about my impending death. You even had that sexy Jason mask. I’m assuming you hate everyone but my dog, and eventually me. All you’re missing is the part where you start calling me something possessive and slightly unhinged.”

His jaw tightens. “I’m not calling you anything.”

“Shame. ‘Mine’ would really suit your whole aesthetic.” I wink. “And I’d like it.”

He huffs out a breath, like I’m exhausting him with my antics, but I think I’m piquing his interest too. God, I hope so. Delusion is all I have down here, and I’m using it to my advantage.

“So how was your day? What did you do? I want to hear everything. I’m so fucking bored.”

“I worked. And you’re tied up in a basement waiting to die. You should be scared, not bored. This situation wasn’t designed for your entertainment.”

I’m just going to keep ignoring the whole “I’m going to kill you” thing, so I focus on the rest of what he said. “You sure seem to work a lot. Do waiters not have forty-hour work weeks? Are you saving up for something fun?” He doesn’t answer right away, so I keep going. “Come on, give me something! If I’m going to die anyway, it doesn’t matter what you tell me, right?”

He scoffs, looking away before he finally mutters, “I have two jobs.”

“Okay, that makes way more sense. Sooo what’s the other one?” Maybe he really is in the Mafia, or maybe he’s a secret hitman! No, never mind that thought actually. He’d be the world’s worst hitman. He literally hit me with his truck and didn’t kill me. Barely hurt me, really. Especially now that it’s been a couple of days, I’m mostly fine. My head still hurts a bit, and my whole body aches, but I think that’s more from being stuck in the limited number of positions I can achieve handcuffed to this pole.

“Marketing,” he finally answers. “Well. That’s what my degree was for.” Okay, Business Daddy. I wonder if he has any suits he could put on the next time he comes down here. I assume that’s all he’ll tell me, so I’m delighted when he continues. “I worked for a marketing firm before I moved here, but now I’ve been doing the branding and coordinating the launch for the brewery my best friend and his brother are opening next month. But they can’t afford to pay me yet, so they gave me equity in the company, and I’m waiting tables until it opens.”

“Are you new to Kansas City then? I definitely hadn’t seen you around before you were my waiter.”

“Really regretting the fact you walked in.” He laughs bitterly. “But yeah, they convinced me to move here to help them with the brewery. We all grew up together; our moms were both on their own so they’d help each other with babysitting and whatnot when the other one had to work. We even all lived together for a while. Grant and Eric are both more like brothers to me, and Grant is my age, so we were basically attached at the hip.”

I can’t believe it. He’s opening up to me. We’re bonding! I knew it would happen eventually, but this is still so exciting. I need to keep him talking, and maybe I’ll tell him more about me, too.

“I’ve always admired single parents. Taking care of Piet on my own is enough of a struggle. I can’t imagine a human child. I don’t have any siblings either. I wish I’d been that close with someone growing up.”

“It was nice.” He sits down on the stairs and drops his head, running his hands through his short hair.

I don’t know what just shifted, but he clearly looks distressed. “What’s wrong?”

He lets out a long groan that I think is a really long “fuck,” not looking up. “They’re going to hate me. I’m going to end up in jail, and their business is going to be dragged because I was associated with it, and it’ll go under with all their savings. I can’t believe I ruined their lives too.”

“Um. No, you didn’t,” I remind him confidently. “Unless you actually kill me, because so far, you’re not really giving me get-away-with-murder vibes, and you probably would be caught. But you’re not going to hurt me, so you’ll be fine, and so will your friends.”

He finally looks up, and his piercing blue eyes search my face. “You honestly expect me to believe you won’t turn me in the second you have the opportunity?”

“Yes. Because it’s the truth,” I state matter-of-factly. “It’s also not too late to fall in love with me, then we can get married. And as your husband, I won’t even be able to testify against you, if you’d prefer that reassurance.”

His eyebrows scrunch together, and he stares at me with wide eyes. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”