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“Of course. Had to remind you that you were mine.”
“What . . . what do you mean?”
“You broughthimhome. Slept withhimwhen you were mine. You’ll have to be punished for that, Little Birdie.”
Oh, shit.
“I didn’t know.”
Anger flooded his face, twisting his features. “You did know! You brought me cookies!”
Cookies.
Oh my God.
She could only think of one man she’d given cookies to recently.
“You were the man living downstairs?” She hadn’t ever learned his name. But how had he hidden his appearance?
Except, he’d never looked up, had he? And his hair had been out, covering his face. He’d taken the cookies and shut the door. And he didn’t dress like he had when he’d worked for Jenner. Then he’d always been clean-cut and well-dressed.
She thought she was going to throw up.
“You’re mine now, Little Birdie.”
“I’m not yours,” she told him. “I belong to Gray.”
“You are mine!” he screamed. “The Deity promised you to me!”
Okay, probably best not to rile the crazy dude.
Wait. The Deity?
“He’s dead,” she whispered.
“He’s been resurrected, greater than ever. And as his loyal Sentinel, he promised that I could have you.”
This guy was losing it. There was a fanatical look in his eyes. How had she not known that a crazy guy was living in the same building as her?
Then again, she’d barely seen him. And half the people in that building were crazy.
“Little Birdie, Little Birdie,” he sung. “Why did you run from me, Little Birdie?”
Dear. Lord.
“If you let me go, I’m sure I can get Gray to go easy on you.”
A look of fury crossed his face and he lashed out, wrapping his hand around her throat. She started to choke.
Air. She needed air.
Why did this bastard keep trying to take away her air?
“You are not his! You are mine!”
She managed to nod.
Appease him. Keep him happy. Do whatever you have to do to stay alive until Gray gets here.
