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“You shouldn’t,” he says. “Just because I don’t want to end your life, doesn’t mean that I won’t slip. If you push me too hard or I’ve had a bad day . . . I’m not sure I will always have the control to hold back, Kyah. You need to be careful with me. I talk a big fucking game, telling you that I’m not going to hurt you, but the truth of the matter is that I’m only human, and I have plenty of downfalls. I lose control just like everybody else.”
I shake my head, snaking my arms back around his neck and pulling him in, his lips barely an inch from mine. “I think we’ve already proven that I’m a little messed up too, and for some reason, I trust you. You’re not going to hurt me, Alex. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to take my life. You stood over me while I slept and didn’t lay a finger on me. I trust you.”
Alex considers me a moment, leaning back onto his hands, just sitting there deep in thought. “What do you want, Kyah?” he asks. “I don’t want to let you go, nor do I think I’d be able to leave you alone if you were to walk away, but I also care about you too much to keep you locked up like this. I know you love your home, and you’re proud of your work. It’s a part of who you are, so I don’t wish to keep you from that, but now knowing who I am, what do you see?”
I roll my tongue over my lips, trying to figure it out, but it’s not exactly an easy question. “I . . . I don’t really know,” I tell him honestly. “I’ve only just found out, and it’s a lot to take in. I mean, you’ve just told me that you’re a serial killer and get off on ending women’s lives—”
“Men’s, too,” he adds just for clarification. “That’s uhhh . . . that’s a new discovery.”
My brows furrow, and despite how badly I want to delve into that, I feel now isn’t exactly the right time to ask. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m going to need a little time to figure it out, but in the meantime, I know it’s kinda messed up for me to admit, but I don’t want anything to change.”
His brows furrow as if he didn’t expect that response, but I go on before he gets a chance to change his mind. “I like feeling the breeze through my window and knowing you’re there. I like the anticipation of knowing that when you get closer, you’re going to touch me. I like the way my heart races and the way my gasps get caught in my throat. But most of all, I like it when you grab me and spread my legs so far apart it hurts.”
I pause, letting out a shaky breath, feeling wrong for admitting all of this out loud, but once the words start, it’s impossible to stop. “When I was blindfolded, and I was just waiting there in my room, knowing that you had something so unbelievably wicked in store for me, I couldn’t control myself. I’ve never felt a rush like that. And last night, running through the park with bare feet, knowing that when you caught me, you were going to fuck me while I screamed, was the biggest thrill I’ve ever experienced. I don’t want that to end, Alex. But I also can’t stand the thought of losing the guy I’m falling in love with, the guy I can run to across the hall when I’ve had a shitty day. The idea that everything could change is killing me, and that honestly scares the shit out of me. I should be running from you. I shouldn’t want you like this, but every time you touch me, I become more addicted to everything that you are.”
He pulls me in and crushes his lips to mine, and despite knowing everything that he’s done, knowing the brutality of his actions against other women, I can’t help but melt into his delicious kiss. He takes his time, his tongue moving against mine until finally pulling back. “Baby, nothing has to change if you don’t want it to,” he says. “But I need to know you won’t run when it gets too hard or if I cross a line you’re not willing to bend on.”
A slow grin stretches across my face, and I lean in closer, my heart starting to race once again. “So what if I do?” I challenge. “You’re only going to find me again, and judging by the raging hard-on I felt in your pants in the park, something tells me you like it when I run from you.”
Alex grins right back at me, and the way his eyes sparkle with lethal excitement has everything south of the border clenching. “You’re damn fucking right, I liked it,” he growls, his hand curling around the back of my neck as he stands, picking me up with him and slamming my back against the cellar wall, pinning me with his big body.
As his lips come down on mine and he grinds that thick cock against my core, I groan, feeling the most intense rush pounding through my body.
Alex pulls back just an inch, his curious gaze locked on mine. “I don’t scare you,” he comments as though the thought is foreign to him.
I shake my head, pulling him back into me, more than ready to be fucked in this filthy storm cellar. “Not even a little bit,” I tell him. And with that, his hand locks around the base of my throat, and I look deep into the eyes of my wicked stalker—the chilled-out, cocky asshole from next door now nowhere to be seen.
39
KYAH
Somuchforlettingme go. The asshole has kept me here for three days, though I suppose that’s a bit of an exaggeration. He took me out of the storm cellar and brought me into an old, rundown suburban home. While it’s nothing special, it comes fully equipped with a bathroom and coffee, and that’s always a bonus in my eyes. Don’t get me wrong, that bathroom is about as far as I can go. I’m still bound to a bed, but it’s definitely an upgrade, especially considering he’s given me a sketchpad and pencils to occupy my time.
Not gonna lie though, the past three days have flown by, solely because it’s been nothing but a fuck-fest in here. I’ve barely had a chance to come up for air.
Alex sleeps on the bed beside me, his big hand gently splayed across my bare thigh. Most nights, we’ve fallen asleep together, but tonight, my thoughts have run wild, and I couldn’t resist picking up the sketchpad to help channel the madness occupying my mind.
Almost every wild thought that has plagued my mind over the past few days has centered around the fact that the breathtaking man beside me is a killer. There’s blood on his hands, and I’m struggling with the fact that I’m willing to keep my mouth shut about it. Does that make me just as guilty? Is the blood of his victims now staining my hands for not handing him over to the police and giving their loved ones some form of justice?
God, I’m such a mess.
Placing my pencil and sketchpad down on the small table beside the bed, I fall back against the headboard, the guilt weighing me down. My gaze sails over Alex’s face as he sleeps, and when he’s like this, he appears so innocent. If I hadn’t seen his face on my security footage, I never would have figured out that it was him. He’s so clever, so sneaky, and when it comes to lying through his teeth, he doesn’t even flinch.
As I sit and watch him, stewing in my thoughts, I play with the cuff around my wrist. He switched it out for a more comfortable one with padding on the inside, kind of like the ones they use in mental hospitals. My fingers trail over it, mindlessly pulling at the binds when the old lock snaps right off.
My eyes widen, and I glance down at the cuff, barely able to believe what I’m seeing.
That didn’t really just fall off, did it?
My heart lurches in my chest, and my gaze immediately snaps toward Alex, making sure the slight drop of the cuff landing on the mattress between us hasn’t woken him.
Seeing he’s still sound asleep, my mind starts to race.
I’m free. I could run.
I could escape this crazy man beside me. I’ve been gone for three days, and after everything that Nat and I talked about in her apartment, I’m sure she’s already got Big Jim, the Grim Reapers, and the whole police department out searching for me.
Shit. The police.
