Page 25
“The what?!” I ask, horrified.
— ¤ —
Knox stands stretched in front of the window, his damn body blocking out half the light as he holds the curtains back.
He takes out a black disc from his pocket and presses it against the molding.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand.
“Surveillance. You’re paying for it.”
“Absolutely not. Not in here.”
“This is a non-negotiable part of the security protocol,” Knox says. He steps past me, completely unfazed, and moves toward the main door to install another freaking device.
I step directly into his path, forcing him to stop.
Damn… I have to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes, which only pisses me off more.
How dare you be this fucking tall?!
“If you think for one second you are putting cameras in my bedroom, you’re fucking insane.”
Knox’s gaze drifts from my face, tracking all the way down to my shoes and back up with an expression so maddeningly unreadable it makes my blood boil.
“They’re not cameras. They’re audio sensors,” he clarifies, as if it were obvious… which it isn’t. “If someone gets in, I’ll hear them breathe. And I’ll be here to stop them before they can get to you.”
“Oh, wonderful. My cage is getting smaller. Thank you, I was always worried it was a bit too big for me,” I say, hoping he can feel the sarcasm dripping from my tone. “What a dream come true.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, and the fucker smirks. “I aim to please.”
I step closer, narrowing my eyes. “I am going to make you wish you quit.”
Knox bends into my space until we’re eye-to-eye. “I am not one of your porcelain things that break just by looking at them, little Prince.”
“Then I’ll bend you until you snap.”
Knox bursts out laughing.
He gathers his tools, but right before he crosses the threshold, he looks back at me and grins. “Good luck with that.”
The stupid giant leaves the room, and I swear I’ll make him regret this shit.
— ¤ —
“Enough!” Leo, my best friend since kindergarten and the most awesome person I know, slams his hand over the coffee table.
His brown eyes glare at me, but it’s pretty difficult to get scared of him when he looks so cute with his baby face and blond curls.
“I swear to God, Cillian Everett Harrington-Hale, if you don’t tell me what is going on, I will submerge you in my latte until you drown.”
“Wow, Leo… that’s very descriptive.”
“Thanks,” he says, blowing a stray curl out of his eyes. “I’ve been sort of planning it in my head for the last ten minutes since we got to this coffee shop in the middle of nowhere, considering you’ve done nothing but stare at the wall like a freaking Victorian ghost.”
“Yeah…” I trail off, my gaze drifting right back toward the tacky wallpaper.
“So, seriously, what’s wrong?”
