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My head is spinning from seeing him after so long, and I put a hand on the window next to me. Okay, I can work this one out. I can. I just need to think. I met a guy who clearly used to be in a gang. He brought me to a lost cabin; Sam was waiting here for us.
“Aw,” I drawl, pretending I’m not entirely overthrown by the situation. “A little set-up just for me? Sam, you shouldn’t have. I’m honored.”
Mattock’s demeanor has changed completely. A second ago, he was all over me, and now he’s taken so many steps back that one would wonder if we ever met before. I roll my eyes at how scared he is of Sam. Everyone is afraid of Sam, and it annoys me. Mattock had his finger deep inside my pussy a second ago, now is not the time to pretend he didn’t do anything wrong.
“What can I say,” Sam bites back. “It’s so easy to set you up. All I had to do was use someone who looks like me. I sprayed him with my cologne. Did you like that little touch?”
The fucking bastard. I pretend he didn’t wholly fool me and go to grab the jacket I left on the sofa.
“You found out I have a type. Nice one,” I say casually as I shrug on my leather jacket.
I have to leave. I know how dangerous it is to stay within close proximity of Sam. My brain only functions for so long. After that, it melts and turns me into an idiot who can’t figure out what’s good for herself. I’m dying to know why he wanted to see me, but I despise him too much to give him the satisfaction of knowing.
But obviously, when someone goes through the trouble of setting you up, they’re not about to let you leave so easily. It was worth a try.
Sam grabs my arm tightly when I walk past him. “You can leave us now, Mattock.”
The professor is about to say something, but I cut him off. “He’s hot, isn’t he?” I say to Sam, knowing it’s going to rile him up. “Is that the boyfriend you so cowardly abandoned me for?”
A hatred for Mattock starts to warm up my chest. I don’t think it’s him, but I still want confirmation.
My words earn me zero reaction from Sam, but when Mattock tries to talk again—I assume to reveal that I’ve got a gun tucked at the back of my pants—Sam is annoyed enough not to let him speak.
“Leave,” he orders before Mattock can say anything.
I give Mattock a sickly-sweet smile as he leaves.
Fucker.
“Alright.” I violently shrug my arm out of Sam’s hold. “Make it quick. Your face makes me sick.”
He scoffs a sarcastic laugh that makes me uneasy, and I take another step away from him. I have a bad feeling and I can’t shake it off. I hate Sam for multiple very valid reasons. But I know he hates me back, and I don’t think him having bothered to set this all up means anything good.
“Why make it quick when I know this is about to hurt?” He indicates to an armchair by the fireplace. “Please, do take a seat.”
“You’ve got one minute. You don’t deserve another second of my time.” I try to keep as calm as possible.
There’s no point playing a game of who will snap first with Sam. He has control, and I don’t. Simple as that. I’m a person who fucks everything up when she’s angry, and he’s a skilled killer. His greatest weapon? Silence.
“What’s wrong? In a rush to go back to your owner?”
“Shut up,” I growl. I can’t believe he’s already getting to me.
He lets a smile slowly spread on his lips, knowing he said the exact thing that would rile me up.
“Sit.” His order is so simple, yet I just can’t get myself to listen to him. Not even if it meant this conversation would go down peacefully.
I don’t want peace with Sam. I want a motherfucking war that will destroy him completely.
He doesn’t even give me time to say no. His hand shoots for my neck and his strong fingers grab the entirety of it without a struggle. He squeezes hard enough that my knees buckle slightly. I put both hands on his forearm to catch myself, and when I find a little more balance, I try to kick him in the balls. He manages to avoid the hit without breaking a sweat and tightens his grip. It makes me cough instantly and I feel my blood attempting to rush to my head.
“Sam,” I try to say, but it only forces another cough out of me. This isn’t how I ever imagined him choking me.
I used to fantasize about it when I saw the state of men leaving him the morning after a fuck. They’d have dotted bruises on their neck and bite marks on their collarbone. This isn’t it. This is him trying to fucking end me.
“Don’t tell me a smart girl like you didn’t think I’d show up the second you reappeared?” He smiles.
His thumb brushes my frantic pulse beating out of my neck, and his grin widens. “My, my, am I still affecting you that much? Is it the fear? Or are you still in love with me?”
