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Lifting my gaze, I glance at him and find he’s staring back at me with an amused grin on his lips. Fucker. He knows what his body does to me. He knows that he holds the power, just as he always has. There’s this switch that flips inside me when he’s near. My heart will forever belong to him. But my soul, my soul I’m not so sure about. I don’t know that I can give that much to a man that kills without caring. I want normal, and Luke is one hundred and fifty percent, not that.
“Let me go put on some clothes, and then we can go.”
Without another word he walks past me and back into the bedroom. Standing there, I take in the kitchen for the first time since he brought me here. The entire cottage is gorgeous, very modest looking with light decorations. Briefly, I remember how he told me he got this place for us. As if he really thought I would take him back after everything. Luke carried hope inside of him that I never did. I never expected us to get back together. After seeing him that night, watching him kill right in front of me, I knew there was no way I would ever be his again. Yet, here I am. It doesn’t take him long to reappear, fully clothed this time, thankfully.
“So, are you really going to let me go out? No cuffs?” I ask, slipping my feet into a pair of sandals near the door. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll run?”
“No. Because you promised me that you wouldn’t.” He says as we exit the house. I watch as he locks up. He twirls the keys around his finger, and my eyes are drawn to the motion.
“Maybe I was lying?” I say as we walk to the car.
“You’re a lot of things, Grace, but a liar isn’t one of them.” I guess he does know me pretty well. I hate lying and being lied to. It’s annoying as hell that he still remembers these things about me.
I made a promise and I’m not breaking it lightly, but that doesn’t mean I won’t break it at all. There are things that are more important to me than keeping a promise, and my freedom is one of those. Crossing my arms over my chest I sit in the seat like a petulant teenager.
The drive to the restaurant is short, but the awkward silence makes it seem much longer. When we pull up to a small Italian place called Mariana’s, the lettering on the front of the building in bright red cursive my mood sours even further.
Not because I don’t like Italian food. In fact, I love it, it has become a favorite of mine over the last year. It’s just that this is another reminder that the only reason he knows this, is because he was watching me from afar.
He puts the car in park and shuts it off, twisting in his seat to face me. I bite at the inside of my cheek till I taste blood. I swear he can see through me like I’m a ghost, seeing every thought inside my head before I even think or speak it.
“I know you like this kind of food so don’t act like you hate being here.” His gaze is fixed on mine and I want to look down, or away, anywhere but at him, “Or are you mad because I know what you like? Because I know all of your wants and needs?”
“You’re an asshole,” I snap, hating how right he is.
With a know-it-all grin, he opens his door and gets out of the car, walking around to open my door for me. The perfect gentlemen. Not. I almost say thank you, the politeness ingrained in me, but I manage to bite my tongue at the last minute and get out of the car without letting the thanks slip out.
Luke tries to grab my hand as we walk along the sidewalk and up to the entrance of the restaurant, but I manage to pull my hand away before we touch. I ignore the heated glare he gives me, and when we walk into the restaurant we’re immediately greeted by a middle-aged woman with an overly friendly smile and an overly sized bosom.
“Welcome to Mariana’s, come on in and have a seat.” Her smile is genuine and infectious, and I can’t help but return it. “Is it going to be just you two or are we expecting more guests today?” I don’t miss the way she says today, or the way she looks at him as more than just a patron of the restaurant. It’s almost like she’s greeting him as a friend, business associate, or something? Like Luke comes here all the time or something.
