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“Did he really? Do people really deserve to die?” she asked.
He smirked. “What about child abusers, rapists, and shit like that?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. How can you? I mean, did you go to some kind of school to learn how to do it?”
Chains moved to take a seat on the toilet. It was the first time a woman had ever been interested in hearing about his life, and he was intrigued by her.
“My life wasn’t a good one. Since I was a kid I’ve been taught how to use a gun, every kind of weapon, and of course, use these.” He held up his hands. He’d killed a lot more people with his bare hands than he’d ever done with a weapon.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I can’t imagine you had a good childhood, and I find that incredibly sad. I feel yours was shattered even before it began.”
He stared at her, seeing the sincerity in her gaze. Chains had witnessed a couple of men at Killer of Kings fall for different women. He’d often wondered what had made their women fall for them. He wasn’t an expert, but he didn’t imagine killers rated high on dating sites.
The whole risk of being killed ruined any chance of that. Hitmen learned early on that close relationships were a weakness to exploit. “You haven’t had a good childhood either. You’ve done nothing but care for kids that aren’t yours.”
“They’re still my brothers and sisters.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
“It doesn’t make it wrong either,” she said.
He smirked. “You’re telling me that you’ve never thought about leaving? About having that once in a lifetime chance where you didn’t have to change shitty diapers or worry about getting them to school, or even have to listen to another pregnancy announcement?” He saw the tears in her eyes. “It’s not wrong to be selfish, Lori. It’s your life as well, and you need to see that.”
She sat up in the water, and stared at him. “You always make it sound so easy. Like it’s not going to ruin everyone’s life. I’m not like you. I can’t be selfish.”
Was he selfish for keeping her prisoner? He thought he was doing her a service, but what the fuck did he know?
He moved from his seat, kneeling on the tiles close to the tub. Resting his arms on the side of the bath, he stared at her, wishing that the bubbles would disperse and he’d get a nice view of those perky fat tits.
“Whose life are you going to ruin?” he asked. “I hate doing this as I hate seeing you upset, but there hasn’t been a notice issued that you’re missing.”
“What?”
“I checked. I went by your place, and no one in your family has reported you missing.” He saw the tears fill her eyes.
“They don’t care?”
Chains gritted his teeth as anger began to flood his veins, his muscled tensing. He didn’t want to see her cry, and certainly not for assholes. They didn’t deserve her.
Reaching out, he swiped a tear off her cheek. “Don’t cry for them.”
“I’m … not loved. They don’t care about me. I sacrificed everything for them.”
She pressed her face against her hands, and Chains couldn’t handle it anymore. Climbing into the bath, fully dressed, he pulled her into his arms. He wanted her. He cared, and Chains knew he’d do anything to make sure she’d be all right.
****
Lori had known. Deep down she’d known that her parents didn’t really care about her. They never asked her about her day, always speaking about their own problems. This just … hurt. She’d hoped that they’d miss her, but clearly, she’d just been another child in a long line of them. Lori felt small and alone, like a little girl craving her parents’ love. But she was a woman now—a lonely, pathetic woman with nothing to her name.
Chains held her tightly, and even though she was naked, she welcomed his touch. Craved it. Needed it. She had no one else, which was really pathetic. This killer cared about her more than her own family did. He’d killed Carlton for hurting her. In the short time she’d been with him, even though she’d been chained in the basement, he’d taken excellent care of her. The time they shared, she actually relished those visits. She didn’t want to lose his touch, not now, not ever. She was the star of some twisted fairy tale.
He stroked her hair, and she closed her eyes, resting her head against his sodden shirt.
“You’re not alone,” he said. The deep rumble of his voice calmed her.
