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I move my arm, testing the tie and he glares at me. I give him a bright grin and his eyes narrow.
“Knock it off.”
I sigh, staring up at the ceiling until my eyes are too heavy to keep open.
FIVE
Locke
“Shit,”I mutter to myself as I stare at the empty granola bar box. A quick check on the other counter confirms the bananas are gone as well. I wasn’t expecting to be stuck here with Keyera this long. I’m not much of a cook and I’ve never had to figure out how to feed a target before.
"Everything okay out there?" Keyera calls out from the bedroom, her voice still scratchy from sleep. "If you want to make me breakfast in bed, I have all the ingredients for omelets!" she adds unhelpfully.
Despite my best efforts, my lips twitch and twist up into a smile. God, this woman is messing with my head. She has mesmilingfor fuck’s sake. Or, well, as close to a smile as I’ve been able to muster in years. How the hell does she manage that while still being kept captive?
"Or…" she drawls, the mischievousness ringing out in her voice. "You could let me cook us breakfast. I make a mean omelet. Best in the state!"
"I thought you just moved here last week," I respond without thinking. She has this way of drawing me into a conversation without even trying. Before I know what's happening, I'm shuffling my way to her room and leaning against the door frame. "That's not enough time to try all the omelets in the state."
The smile she gives me punches a hole right through my chest. I have to rub my hand over my heart to make sure it’s still there. It’s threatening to beat right out of my ribcage, but the fucker is still working alright.
Those soft pink lips of hers part slightly as her smile spreads across her face. Her blue eyes sparkle, and I instantly decide I like making her smile. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to bring someone joy instead of fear, but Keyera is changing everything about me with barely a flick of her wrist.
Her tied up wrist.
The one that is rubbed nearly raw from the zip tie she’s been wearing almost constantly.
Again, my body surges forward before my brain can catch up. I’m standing next to the bed, staring down at the beautiful angel with bright blue eyes.
"I'm pretty confident my omelets are the best inanystate,” she says with all the sass she can muster. “Why don’t I make you one and you can tell me how it is?” The temptress bats her fucking eyelashes at me. The move would be annoying if anyone else tried it, but Keyera? Hell, I’m pretty sure anything she does is somehow adorable and sexy.
I don’t respond, I simply cut the zip tie off her wrist, cringing when I see the red mark there. I can’t stand knowing she’s been in discomfort this long. Even more painful is the thought of handing her over to meet her fate. I can’t do anything about the second one, but I can try to ease her suffering while she’s here.
Keyera hops off the bed, but before she can get too far, I direct her to the bathroom.
“Sit,” I tell her, pointing to the edge of the tub. Keyera eyes me suspiciously but does what I ask. It pleases me more than it should. “Let me see your wrist. The sore one.”
Again, the angel peers up at me, confusion clouding her eyes. Eventually, she raises her arm, letting me take her hand in mine. I ignore the feeling of her soft little hand in my much bigger, rougher one, focusing instead on rubbing some ointment I found in a drawer in the bathroom.
Keyera sighs so sweetly, then dips her head down, as if she was embarrassed by the sound. Jesus, hearing that breathy sigh fall from her lips has me fighting to keep my arousal at bay. What other sexy sounds does she make? Would she scream as I drive into her over and over? Or maybe she comes with a whisper on her lips as her face is twisted up in ecstasy.
I clear my throat and finish applying the ointment. I wrap her wrist in some gauze, pressing down lightly to secure it.
When I’m done, Keyera withdraws her hand from mine, instead holding it in her lap as she fixes her gaze on me. I know what she’s thinking; why am I taking care of her? Fuck if I know. And fuck if I can stop now.
“I heard something about breakfast,” I mumble, stepping away from her. “Better get to it before I change my mind.”
Keyera snorts out a laugh and I have to turn away to keep from showing her my smirk. I like giving her shit. Almost as much as she likes giving me shit.
Normally I would never let a target into a kitchen. There are too many knives or other tools that could be used as a weapon but I don’t think Keyera will try anything.
I’m leaning against the far counter, watching Keyera take out ingredients for breakfast. I keep waiting for her to start talking. She spent all day yesterday trying to convince me she wasn’t who I was looking for. I’d never admit it, but part of me believes her. She doesn’t seem like the type to be someone’s mistress and there are just too many things with Keyera Barclave written on it. The mistress has only been gone three weeks and I don’t think anyone could have all of this set up in that time frame.
She could have set it up before she took off.
As much as I want to believe her, there’s that seed of doubt in the back of my mind. I don’t trust anyone, so why should I trust her? The woman seems sincere, though. Even through her fear and that wall she has around her heart, I can see her need for me to believe her. I think I just might...
You just don’t want to believe she could be a liar or a thief.
