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“Excuse me.”
I rushed from the kitchen not bothering to check what his reaction was. Taking the stairs two at a time, I pulled up the app store in search of rideshare applications. I needed an Uber or a Lyft. I would settle for a taxi triple the price if it meant getting me out of here.
I hit download on a few just as I flung the guest room door open. What I saw left me bewildered. It was perfectly made up—clean to the point of appearing clinical. It didn’t look as if anyone had been making temporary use of it the past few days.
Where were all my things? I scanned every inch of the floor and all four corners not seeing a single item that belonged to me. The click-clack of Alaric’s dress shoes on the stairs had my legs propelling me further into the room. I quickly checked both the closet and the bathroom. These too were immaculate.
I hadn’t come here with anything more than a lone suitcase. It wouldn’t be that hard to stash or hide it somewhere.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I closed my eyes and took a quick breath before turning to face him.
“I’m going home.”
“You’re going home?” he repeated back slowly as if he couldn’t comprehend the meaning of my words.
“Yeah, as in I’m leaving. Unless you’re intending to keep me held here like a hostage?”
“Is that rhetoric? Do you want me to gag and bind you?” he teased.
“That’s not funny.”
“You’re right,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Okay. How exactly are you planning on leaving?”
“Does it matter? It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
His perfectly sculpted brows slightly lifted, an ill-amused half-smile graced his mouth. “You’re staying in my house based on my request. My bank provided the funds for you to get here--.”
“I can pay you back. I’ll even add interest,” I rushed out.
While my account wasn’t remotely in the range of his, I would scrape together every nickel and dime I had to clear away any debt he felt I owed if it meant going home.
His supple lips flattened into a frown. “I don’t give a shit about the money. That’s irrelevant.”
“Then--.”
“I’ve fed you, fucked you, and taken sole responsibility for your well-being. I think you leaving has everything to do with me. How are you getting to where you’re going?”
“I’m getting a ride now. I just need my things and I can handle the rest.”
“A ride from who?”
“I don’t know who, Alaric. Whoever pulls up in the car that’s coming to get me.”
“You’re going to ride hours away with a stranger?”
“Hours?”
“Cat, are you aware of how far we are from anything else? I like my privacy.”
I cast my gaze to the far bedroom window as if I could calculate the distance from his home to civilization. I’d forgotten how long it took to get here from the airport. I couldn’t retrace that route from memory. I’d slept for nearly the whole last half of the drive.
I didn’t understand how that would matter, though. That’s what GPS was for. Unless that wasn’t what he was genuinely concerned about…
“You don’t have to worry. I won’t ever tell anyone. I just want to go home.”
He regarded me again with an impassive stare and silence as if I’d said something else he couldn’t understand. That was fine by me. I wasn’t going to make him confess. He hadn’t bothered asking why I was so intent on leaving. That was telling enough, wasn’t it? I knew he didn’t want to let me go at all.
When he placed himself between my legs and told me I was his, that wasn’t a lust-filled promise. He had meant it. But was keeping me here indefinitely really his plan? I had a niggling suspicion he was purposely delaying my departure.
After a minute or two of us standing in silence, he sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Let me see your phone.”
My fingers flexed, holding the device tighter. “Why?”
“Don’t you want to get out of here? That’s fine, Cat, but you’re forgetting something.”
I didn’t like this. I didn’t trust him or myself. The way he was watching me, his calm tone, and perfectly relaxed demeanor. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of my head. He’d behaved this way since the day I met him. Only now, I was aware of what lurked beneath that pristine surface. I also had a tendency for being paranoid. Both were legitimate reasons why I didn’t want to give him my phone.
“Cat.” He inched forward with cautious steps. “Let me help you,” he coaxed gently.
“I don’t need your help with anything other than my bag. Where is it?”
“Your things are in the closet.”
My brows furrowed. I turned my head and checked inside for a second time without moving from where I was, getting the same result as before. The slight distraction cost me.
