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The door creaks open, and my mouth dries at once. When Kieran strides inside, it does nothing to ease my nerves. Memories from last night stream through my fogged mind. Those eyes of his, right before he put a cloth over my mouth. Panic gives way to anger.
What is wrong with the men in my life treating me as if I am nothing more than an ornament?
Not one trace of guilt is to be seen on his gorgeous face. He tucks his hands in his pants pockets without a care in the world, not an ounce of regret. I stomp to him and press my finger in his hard-as-stone chest.
“Are you crazy? You scared me to death.”
He shrugs. He fucking shrugs.
“You kidnapped me, Kieran.”
“You should thank me.”
This can’t be real. But it is. It is in my savage beating heart, in him standing in front of me as if we’re having a normal conversation. Fury replaces confusion. I press my hands to his chest and shove him.
His jaw twitches. He grabs my elbow and puts his forehead on mine.
“You’re scared. I get it, but I would never hurt you.”
“You kidnapped me. Came into my room and drugged me.”
Kieran grinds his teeth together. “I took you away from your father, who would have sold you to a fucking monster, Aurora. Do you know what that man’s favorite activity is? Breaking women and turning them into his sex slaves.”
I wince, and a mix of emotions settles heavily on my chest—fear mingled with dejection, shame mingled with self-consciousness.
I wrap my arms around myself. “So, now what? Should I get on my knees and thank you? What about talking to me? Informing me?”
I take a step back. Strangely, I prefer knowing I am here with him. I escaped one monster. But who will save me from this one?
“Am I a prisoner?”
“You will be safe.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“If you want to think of yourself as a prisoner, then be my guest. I don’t have time for this,” he says, and leaves me with my mouth hanging open.
Oh no. I storm after him and follow him downstairs and into the kitchen.
“Kieran, be reasonable. We need to talk.”
“Aurora, you be reasonable. You are safe. End of discussion.”
He ignores me and puts a cup in the coffee machine, his back to me while I prop my hip against the counter.
“Does my brother know?”
“It was his idea.”
I slap my hand down on the counter to support myself. The avalanche of information is dizzying me. “Where is he?”
“Cam should be here any moment.”
Tamara enters the kitchen, caution transforming her face as she scans our interaction.
“My dear, how are you?”
I throw my hand in his direction. “Ask Kieran.”
