AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No surprise, he knows.
“There’s something else. Something you’re not telling me.”
I nod, my forehead bumping into his chest with the motion. “I want to leave the basement.”
“I can’t let you go. I wouldn’t have anyway, but after tonight—”
Right. Tonight, when Burns made himself vulnerable by committing murder right in front of me. And if he’s not vulnerable, then I’m a fucking target. No way he’ll risk me running off and telling anyone what I saw.
Of course, given my track record with making police reports, they’ll never believe me. Doesn’t mean I’m not a loose end that he might be forced to tie up one day. Then again, if I’m stuck in his basement forever…
“You misunderstood. I don’t want to leave the cabin.” Shit. I don’t want to leavehim. “But I can’t stay in the basement anymore.”
“Oh. In that case… yeah. If that’s what you want, angel, we can head to my bed.”
The Burns I’m used to would take the chance to lord my request over me. He’d point out that he always knew he’d get his way. That me willingly joining him in his bed is one step away from what he’s been after all along: fucking me and making me his.
In the quiet of the late night, he doesn’t do that. He simply holds me close, waiting for me to give the signal that I’m ready to go.
And it hits me. Something’s changed… but it isn’t just me.
In case I’m imagining it, I pull away from him enough so that I can look him in the eyes. “Don’t you want me to beg?”
I’ll never forget my first day down here. When Burns told me this was my room until I begged him to let me move into his. Since he’s spent every night since the nightmares came back with me, the basement basically turned into his room, but I know he has an actual bedroom somewhere else in the cabin.
“There are plenty of times I will. Not denying that. Sometimes, though… hearing you ask me so sweetly is even better than when you plead.”
Ah. There’s the Burns I know and—
Know.
17
ANGELA
The bed in Burns’s room is a queen. Compared to the cot I’ve slept on the last week or so, it’s massive. There’s more than enough space for the both of us.
So why do I wake up snuggled against Burns?
Him being right there isn’t unusual. Apart from my first night here, he’s found an excuse to join me in bed every time I go to sleep. Even when he gave me my space after the whole blowjob thing, he came back when the nightmares found me. Since then, he hasn’t even pretended that he doesn’t plan on every free moment he has with me by his side.
His police schedule is pretty regular. I figured it out when he was patrolling outside of the florists where I worked. He has five-on, two-off one week, then four-on, three-off the next. His shifts range from eight to ten hours depending on the week, though if he’s behind on paperwork or is racking up the overtime, it’s longer.
He had his days off last week. I thought he was working all along this week, though that got shot to hell when he confessed he spent days stalking Carter before he could bring him to me and we could enact revenge on him. Because of that, I was sure he was going back to work today, and I was waiting to see what his next move would be.
I got to sleep in his room. No doubt in my mind he found a way to lock us in, but if he goes back to work today, what then? Do we go back to how it was? Or does Burns realize that, after last night, everything reallyhas changed?
That’s how I find out about his vacation. It started three days ago. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to get to Carter, and he put in for two weeks off in case it took longer than he expected. Which means that, for another week and a half, I have Mason Burns all to myself.
It isn’t long before I realize that, yes, Burns can tell the difference. For the first time since he grabbed me, he’s not treating me like his prisoner. I’m his lover. His partner.
And if he has his way, I’ll be his wife.
He hasn’t given up on that idea. When he finally relented and let me call my mom, he took the phone out of my hand and introduced himself as my fiance. Smart Burns didn’t give her any other information than that. Not his name. Not his occupation. Just that I was his.
He knew what he was doing. My relationship with my parents became strained after my assault. That was partly me, blaming my parents for not being able to make the situation better, and them, believing the police when they said I wasn’t a victim. I call them twice a year: on my birthday and Christmas. That’s the extent of the relationship I want, so me calling suddenly with the news I’m engaged wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.
Of course, I can’t really deny Burns’s claim without having to explain the real situation. Not like I’m ever going to do that. In one fell swoop, he ensures that my parents know I’m safe, believe I’m in a loving relationship, and I won’t ever want to call them again for fear of details about a wedding that I’m not sure will ever happen.
