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I fully expect him to push me away, to shove me to the ground or hit me. Instead, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. I don’t understand why he’s doing it, but for the moment being, I simply let him hold me while I cry.

“I don’t want to die,” I tell him, my voice sounding just as shaky as I feel.

“I’m not going to kill you, Monroe. But if you try to run again, I will kill someone, and it will be your fault. You don’t want that, do you? You don’t want a death on your conscience.”

“No, please. I won’t run again.” Releasing my hold on him, I put enough distance between us so I can look at him. Blinking my tears away, I study his face.

“Good. If you don’t plan on running again, you have nothing to worry about. Now, go sit on the couch while I finish cooking breakfast.”

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“No. Though after we eat, I’m going to make you hold an ice pack to my head.”

Not sure if he is joking or not, I do as I’m told and take a seat on the couch while Alaric finishes cooking us breakfast as if nothing happened. He cleans up the blood on the floor between flipping the bacon, and suddenly, I feel ashamed of what I did, no matter how justified it was.

Alaric brings me a plate, and we eat on the couch in silence. It isn’t until I’m done with my food that the bottom of my foot aches. Lifting up my leg, I drape it over my knee to examine my foot. Blood has seeped through the sock right at my heel.

“Let me see.” Alaric sets his plate on the coffee table and grabs my ankle. He pulls my leg into his lap and carefully slips off the sock to examine my heel. “I don’t think anything is stuck in the wound. You probably just stepped on a rock. We’ll clean it out and wrap it up. You should be fine.”

“It didn’t even hurt until now.”

“Adrenaline numbs you up. If it hurts too bad, I can give you a painkiller.” He cradles my foot like it’s made of glass. My head spins with confusion. How can he be so sweet and caring one minute, and the next, he ties me to the bed while he goes off to kill people?

I don’t think I will ever be able to figure him out. But one thing is clear—getting away is looking more and more bleak.

11

Alaric

“This is really good,” Monroe tells me between bites. She cuts another large piece of steak and dips it in the creamy pepper sauce. “But I have to say, I’m surprised you let me have the steak knife.”

“I’m only worried about keeping heavy objects out of your reach.” The back of my head throbs at the reminder, and guilt briefly flashes over her face, but it disappears just as quickly. I’m actually not mad at her for trying to get away. Truth be told, I’m impressed she managed to get as far as she did. I’m only mad at myself for letting it happen in the first place. I won’t turn my back on her again.

“Trust me, little girl. I’m much faster and stronger than you. Not to mention, I was trained in hand-to-hand combat. It’s more likely that you hurt yourself with that than hurt me.”

She studies my face, and I can basically see the wheels turning. She is thinking about trying it, maybe even calling my bluff. I ready myself to fight off her attack, letting possible scenarios run through my mind. But then she simply shoves the steak into her mouth and chews slowly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try anything…again. I would most likely only hurt myself.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I eagerly pull it out. Typing in the code, I unlock it and find the message I’ve been waiting for all day. It’s from Dr. Houseman, letting me know that Monroe's test results all came back normal.

A rush of excitement fills my veins, to the point of not being able to sit still. Just thinking about what I have planned for tonight has my cock straining against my zipper. I shift in my seat. I’m not used to feeling this way, feeling so exhilarated about anything.

Monroe must notice my mood change as well. “Is everything all right?”

I clear my throat. “Yes. I just forgot the wine.” Scooting my chair back, I get up and step into the kitchen. I stay on high alert while turning my back toward her. I won’t let her sneak up on me again, but I am worried about her accidentally cutting herself.

While listening to her carefully, I get the bottle of chilled wine out of the fridge and pour two glasses. When I put the corkscrew back into the drawer, I slide my hand under the drawer inserts and grab the small clear bag with the tip of my finger.

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