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Porter sat in the light blue chair in the corner of the room. She heaved a long sigh. “Jesus H. Christ, don’t do that to me.” Rubbing her temple, she added, “For a moment there I thought I’d been goon-napped.”
“Now, why would you think that?” Porter’s voice was tense.
Kenzie waved him off. “Never mind.” She gave her head another good rub before she shifted against the pillows, getting a little more comfortable.
Porter sat in complete silence, studying her with a closed-off expression. She became bored with the staring contest, so she examined the room some more, now understanding that this had to be Porter’s bedroom. Tidy, masculine, and simple, the room reflected Porter perfectly. “Mind explaining this?” She shook her arm, rattling the handcuff against the steel headboard.
He didn’t reply.
The last thing she remembered was getting into the cab with him, and she guessed she fell asleep. Guilt and embarrassment flooded her at her behavior, warming her cheeks. God, she’d acted so foolishly last night. I barfed in a plant!
She regarded Porter, and the tight corners of his mouth indicated his obvious annoyance about last night. “Okay, I’m sorry. You were right to make me leave. Thank you for that. It wasn’t my finest moment.”
He snorted. “I would say not.”
She waited for him to get up and remove the handcuff, but he didn’t. So there they sat, stalemated. Minutes passed, and the silence was awkward and uncomfortable. “Is there something you want me to say?”
He didn’t respond.
Kenzie huffed. This Dom was seriously becoming a pain in her ass. A hot Dom with wicked touches, of course, but an irritating one nonetheless. The silence became daunting. “Listen, my bladder is about to explode. If you don’t want me to pee on your bed, you better unlock me.”
His frown deepened. “Not good enough.”
She gawked at him, though within his hard reply she recognized what he wanted. The fact that her bladder hurt in a bad way had her easily saying, “Porter, I need you to help me. Please unlock these.”
He rose and then approached the side of the bed. “There, you just asked for help. See how easy that was? Next time it won’t be so hard for you.” Sitting down next to her, he unlocked the handcuff from her wrist, leaving it dangling on the headboard. “The bathroom is there.” He pointed to the closed door by the closet.
Kenzie jumped out of bed, cursing her throbbing head with every step she took. She made it to the bathroom in two-point-two seconds and was out not long after. When she reentered the bedroom, she found that Porter had removed the handcuff from the bed. She couldn’t help but wonder what other paraphernalia he had. But sex, vanilla or otherwise, was completely out of the question right now.
Porter patted the bed, and once Kenzie joined him, sitting cross-legged with her back against the pillows, he grasped her wrist. He massaged it and said, “Tell me what is going on with you.”
She noted his soft expression, seeing only concern there. Fuck, even she knew last night she had crumbled to pieces, and he knew it, too. But with Porter, there was something warm that she could easily trust. “I’m a hot mess.”
“That is clearly apparent.” He used soft massaging pressure on her wrist, stroking her arm where the handcuff had been. “I have no idea why you are keeping everyone out, when I know for a fact you have many friends you could talk to. I don’t understand why you feel that you can’t share what you’re going through, but I’m telling you this now: You are not leaving this bed until you talk to me.”
The hardness in his features indicated he was dead serious, and she also suspected that he would handcuff her back to the bed if she stayed silent. Perhaps because of behaving like she did last night and that he’d been so concerned, she found herself unable to stay quiet any longer. This was all destroying her, she knew that. And she knew she needed help; this was all much more than she could handle on her own.
Though this was a complicated thing, not only with Adrik, but the mess inside of her, and it all went far deeper than she was willing to admit. She was terrified to go home, and she’d have to tonight. The ant excuse could hold up for only so long. “I don’t know how to do this.”
One brow arched. “How to do what?”
“Ask for help,” she admitted.
He stared at her for a few long seconds and then sighed. “Being strong is good, kitten. I admire that about you. But it’s okay to depend on people, too.” He stopped massaging her wrist and took her hand in his, holding it against the bed. “The other day when I came into the store and found you on the floor, what happened?” His voice firmed, eyes probing hers. “The truth.”
“A man attacked me.” The words left her mouth and she reeled in surprise, for what she thought would be a difficult thing to say came out awfully easily.
Porter’s jaw clenched, the only sign that what she said bothered him. “What man?”
“I don’t know,” she replied with a small shrug. “A few weeks ago I was contacted by a lawyer who represented Adrik Petrov. They made an offer to buy my bookshop, because he wants to demolish the block and build a new casino. When I said no, they—”
“Threatened you?”
She nodded, annoyed by the tears welling in her eyes. “First letters came, and then phone calls. After that, Adrik came by, and from what I’ve learned of him, he’s a shady guy. But then one of his men came.” Her voice hitched. “And…”
“Hurt you.” Porter’s eyes flared with ire. “What did he do to you?”
“Made the point clear enough that he could strangle me if he wanted to.” She didn’t need to say more than that.
