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“You ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“Why? What do you want with me?”
“I don’t know yet, LaLa. Don’t ask me to explain it. I can’t.”
“Where did you find me?” I ask him, vaguely remembering what he said before.
“Behind the strip club. I told you that,” he replies, blowing smoke into the air.
“Why didn’t you leave me there?”
“You weren’t dead, sweetheart. I don’t make it a habit of leavin’ half-dead girls layin’ behind my place of business.”
“The strip club is yours?” I ask.
“The clubs, yeah.”
“None of this makes sense.”
“It might if you’d tell me a little more about what the hell you were doin’.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I tell him, going back to that. I won’t tell him shit. If he doesn’t know who I am, I sure as hell won’t be the one to tell him. Let the cards fall where they may. Either way, I’ll be dead. I was warned about the clubs. I’ve heard about them over the years. They are ruthless. They’re the bad guys, almost worse than my father.
“You did do somethin’. Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re runnin’ from or who, for that matter, but I will find out.”
“What difference does it make to you?”
“Makes all the difference to me.”
“Why?”
“That’s none of your concern. I’ll bring you some food,” he says before walking toward the door.
“You can’t leave me like this!”
“I can and I will. This is how things will go until I get the answers I want.”
“You’re going to leave me cuffed to the bed?”
“With my cum all over your face. Yeah, I am. It looks sexy as fuck, by the way,” he tells me with a smirk.
“You can’t do this.” I grab the sheet with my free hand and pull it up to wipe my face off. Tarek chuckles and watches me but doesn’t make a move to stop me.
“I can do whatever I want. You don’t want to give me answers, so this is it. Get used to it, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“No? Don’t like sweetheart? Fine, Princess. Have it your way,” he says before leaving the room.
“Definitely don’t call me that,” I mumble under my breath.
Chapter 5
Tarek
She’s stubborn as all hell. She’s a hellion, that’s for sure. I can see the fire in her eyes when she looks at me. I can feel the burn of her gaze every time I walk into the room. And I fucking like it.
LaLa has been here a week. A week she hasn’t said a word about what happened or who she is. A week I haven’t learned much else about her. It bothers me, but I have patience. I can handle the non-talking girl.
