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I’ve gone through the spectrum of emotions tonight. I may not have had a great relationship with my father, he may have been the one to hand me over to monsters, but my mother loved him, and I loved her. It made it nearly impossible to watch the recording of his torture and death.
I look down at my body, now free from Alessio’s blood. Bruises mark my wrists from the way the Severino men tied them together so carelessly, but that seems like the only physical proof I have from such an intense day.
I huff a laugh. Intense? What a fucking word.
I turn off the water, once again taking my time in hopes that Hollis will join me, but as I towel dry, he doesn’t show.
Maybe I read too much into that kiss. Maybe he was just being overprotective in the way he held me close the entire drive to this hotel.
Maybe he’s glad I’m okay, but second-guessing what happens next.
I made him choose. He wanted me to go to him, but I couldn’t. I need him to make that call, but now I’m feeling as if I read it all wrong the way he comforted me, the way his heart rate calmed once he had me pulled in tight to his body.
I wrap the towel around my body, finding myself once again without clean clothes to wear. Slowly, I make my way from the room, freezing at the sight of Hollis leaned back in the armed chair on the far side of the room, his hand wrapped around a glass of dark liquid—whiskey if I had to guess.
He looks as annoyed as I felt showering alone, and it makes me restless, feeling naked and vulnerable, but I’m past all that shit. I was before Nash stopped the train that was coming by pulling Hollis off of me in McAllen. I’d made a plan then. I was going to take what I wanted from this man. I was tired of living in fear. I spoke of wanting a choice but refused to choose when I had the opportunity. The weeks I spent with him, keeping my distance, only giving him exactly what he demanded of me while ignoring the wants of my body, were wasted time. I didn’t want to waste time any longer, but I may not have a choice anymore.
I step up to the tray, picking up the second glass on it and tossing the liquid back.
His jaw twitches when I scrunch my nose at the taste, taking a deep breath when it burns my throat.
Definitely whiskey.
I lift the stainless-steel cloche, my mouth instantly watering at the sight of the bacon cheeseburger and fries.
“Seventeen dollars for the whiskey,” he says.
My eyes slowly rise from the food to look at him. I pull a french fry from the plate and bite the end of it.
“The fries weren’t even included with the meal. Another twelve dollars.”
“Yeah?” I chew, trying not to smile and finding myself unable. “That’s really expensive.”
“It is,” he agrees, his thumb running back and forth over the rim of his glass of whiskey.
“I’m broke. Bank doesn’t open until morning.”
His smile is slow, a little menacing. It makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Eat your fill,” he urges. “You’ll be expected to pay back every single bite.”
I knew this was the game we were playing before he ever opened his mouth, and it fucking thrills me to no end.
I fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together.
“This burger will be better than any of the others?”
He shrugs. “Probably not, but it will definitely cost more.”
I lift the gooey thing, wondering if I honestly shouldn’t pull up a chair and have a meal, but my need for other things right now wins out.
I take a bite, an actual fucking moan rumbling inside of me because of how hungry I am.
I chew slowly, liking the power I feel when his eyes drop to my lips and then my throat as I swallow.
“How much was the water?” I ask, lifting the frosty cup from the room service tray and taking a long drink.
“It was complimentary, but it took time to order it.”
“So there’s a fee attached?”
He nods, lifting his whiskey to his lips and draining the glass.
I inch forward as he places it on the side table.
“I only have one way to pay,” I tell him, dropping the towel. “I hope this is enough.”
His eyes scan my body, taking in every inch of me slowly. He pauses on the bruises on my wrists but doesn’t mention them.
“It’s not.”
“Maybe this will cover it,” I say, walking closer and straddling his body.
I lift his hand until it’s cupping my breast, and although he seems enthralled, he still shakes his head.
“This?” I ask, barely able to keep from moving faster, considering we’re practically picking up right where we left off days ago.
