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He nods. “You’ll have to sell your place and quit your job.”
“Won’t it look suspicious that we’re both moving at the same time? Suddenly, and right after women start disappearing?”
“I don’t give a fuck what it looks like. I care whether we get caught or not. We can tell people we’re together. It would make sense for you to come with me while I deal with the impending death of my father.”
I can’t help but smile wider. “We’re going to tell people we’re together? Like who?”
He gives me a look. “You shouldn’t be focused on that part of the plan.” His lips twitch slightly, though, telling me he’s amused. “I’ll tell Jason. He’ll tell everyone. I don’t talk to many other people.”
“Well, I don’t need much from my place. Just clothing and a few other small things. I’ll contact an agent to do the sale without me having to stick around. Give them the same type of story.”
“So, tonight we can leave and head back into town to grab everything we need and load it up. We’ll need to drive to another nearby town and get you sewn up by a professional. We can say you got cut in the middle of the storm but we couldn’t get to a hospital until now, which will explain the botched job.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You should still get it looked at.” He takes a breath and then says, “What do you think about new identities?”
“Think we should?” I ask. He gives me a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m sorry. I know you were settled into Ezra Hamilton—the normal, regular citizen of a small town who isn’t a killer.”
He angles his head to stare at me. “I was never that. You should know. And I don’t care who I have to become, because I’ll always be Quintin Black to me—and to you. That’ll never change. I can slip on a mask and a new personality wherever we go as long as I know I can be myself with you when I get back home.”
“You’re starting to sound a little domesticated,” I tease. “Sounds a lot like a certain four-letter word to me.”
“Fake?”
I throw my head back with a laugh. “Yeah.”
His lips pull up on one side as he looks back at the TV. “We can figure out where to go and who we’ll be later.”
“And in the meantime…” I say, inching my way closer to him and trying not to wince. The pain has been easier to bear, and though it still hurts, I can’t stay away from him much longer. “I was thinking since I showered and I’m feeling better, maybe we could…”
He arches a brow at me. “We could what?”
“You know,” I say, reaching under his shirt.
“You think I can’t see you hiding the fact that you’re in pain?”
“Since when did my being in pain stop you from fucking me?”
“Since it wasn’t me who inflicted it. Since it was a cut meant to take you from me. And I’m still not convinced those fake stitches won’t come apart and have you bleeding all over the bed.”
I bite into my lip before saying, “But you like blood.”
“I don’t like evidence.”
Slowly, I attempt to get onto my knees, but I’m unable to keep from making a face. I power through. “Are you saying you don’t want me?” I ask, reaching for the button of his jeans. “Are you saying you can’t fuck me because of a little cut on my side?” I pull the zipper down. “Don’t treat me like a doll now. Not unless it’s a sex doll. I’m a big boy, Quintin. I can handle you.”
His nostrils flare as he breathes. “Kaspian.” He’s warning me, his tone low and deep.
“Hmm?”
“You can’t handle the way I want to fuck you right now.”
“No?”
He grabs my wrist, his grip tight. “No. Because I want to fuck you for many reasons. I want to fuck you to punish you. You shouldn’t have gone off on your own without telling me what you were up to. You shouldn’t have ignored me. I’m still so pissed that I could’ve…” He stops talking, his chest heaving with deep breaths.Lost you. That’s what he was going to say. I know it. “You don’t get to set rules for me and not adhere to any of your own.” He pokes me in my chest. Right where his name is. “You belong to me. Remember that. I always get to be in the know. It’s not like I’m going to judge you. I’m going to try to help.”
I nod once, my chin dipping slowly. “Okay.”
