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Probably not.
“That would be a waste of my breath.” He slowly shakes his head. “And don’t try and make this look like I’m holding you against your will. You left of your own accord.”
I frown, trying to make sense of his words. His logic. Is he delusional? Does he really think I left with him because I wanted to? And now I’m lying in an empty room tied up because this is how I want to spend my evening?
Has it really only been a few hours since I was last in my apartment, watching Doja play fetch? Feels like days ago. Weeks.
Maybe it really was only last night when Perry took me out in his Chevelle and we ate dinner at the diner after he fingered me to orgasm. And afterward, when we sat on top of the parking garage, the rain falling outside, wrapped up in each other in the front seat.
Now all of it has been tainted thanks to Seamus spying on us. The sick asshole.
When I don’t say anything he shakes his head and reaches for me, his fingers coming around my arm. I jerk out of his hold, rolling away from him, groaning when the rope rubs against my ankles.
“You’re being foolish,” he chastises. “Let me help you stand. I’m going to feed you.”
I glance over my shoulder at him, trying to ignore the hope lighting up inside of me. Despite everything, I’m hungry. And I need food to keep up my strength. “You are?”
Seamus nods. “As long as you cooperate, yes.”
I let him grab hold of my arm again and pull me up to my feet, trying my best not to recoil from his touch. Having him so close is unsettling, and not in a good way. His familiar scent, the way he stands, the sound of his breathing. All of the memories come flooding back, one after another. I used to be completely enamored with this man. I believed he could do no wrong. He smiled at me, and it felt like sunlight. Warm and pure and giving me life.
Such a stupid girl I was. I wanted to believe so badly that he cared about me, I was blind to all the signs.
The signs that he was just using me.
He bends down as if he’s kneeling at my feet, his fingers undoing the complicated knots with frustrating ease. This could be my moment where I make my escape. I could kick him in his stupid smug face, send him flying backwards and I would run. I would run fast and far.
He glances up at me, his dark gaze a warning, as if he can read my thoughts.
“Do something stupid and I’ll tie you up even tighter.”
I offer a nod as my answer and he pulls the rope off my ankles, which is utter relief. The skin where the rope rubbed stings, and when I rotate one foot, then the other, they both ache from being bound for so long.
“Can you walk?” he asks once he’s standing at my side once more.
Nodding, I kept my head bent, not wanting to look at him.
“I’m going to take you to the kitchen,” he says, his fingers curling around my upper arm, gripping me tightly. “I’ll untie your hands when you’re in the chair so you can eat.”
Awareness at his words makes my skin tingle but I try my best not to react outwardly. Instead, I say nothing.
He’s quiet for a moment, and I can feel the tension rippling through him. “Don’t do anything you might regret.”
I nod again, my head still averted. Without warning he grabs hold of my chin with his other hand, forcing me to look at him. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper, when I realize my nods aren’t a good enough answer for him.
“Good,” he whispers back, a faint smile curling his lips.
It’s hard to wrap my head around how attractive he is, and how captivated I was by him. Because I can’t deny it. Seamus McTiernan is a darkly handsome man. No wonder I fell for him.
But I’m not attracted to him any longer. Not at all. My heart…
Belongs to another.
“You’ve changed,” he tells me nonchalantly as we walk down a narrow hall. My gaze is everywhere, taking in my surroundings. It looks like I’m in a small apartment. A two-bedroom, two-bathroom unit, from what I’ve seen so far. There’s a small living room with a black leather couch and a big screen TV. Beyond that is a very small dining area with a small square table and two steel gray folding chairs. And then there’s the kitchen. It’s narrow, the wood cabinets a dark golden oak. Everything appears dated. Coming from another time, and there’s a musty scent lingering in the air.
As if the apartment has sat unused and locked up for a long time.
