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Me: I don’t know. Find me.
I share my location before tucking my phone into my back pocket as I wander toward the kitchen. It’s a small space, but it makes the perfect stage and has all the props I need.
I take three knives from the butcher block, setting them out but leaving them discreetly covered, out of sight if you aren’t looking for them. Then I lean against the kitchen island, facing the living room as I stare at the black screen of the enormous TV.
It’s outrageous, stretching across half the wall, helping him compensate for the areas of life he lacks.
But I don’t need to point that out.
If his personality is anything to go by, then he’s already aware.
David ambles quietly from the hall, wet hair dripping down his cheeks. I imagine it’s blood marring his handsome features that are ruined by his sour expression.
“What were you doing?” he demands, glowering at me. “What are you hiding?”
“Excuse me?” I raise my brow, cocking my hip as I wait for him to explain.
“You haven’t been standing there the whole time,” he accuses. “Why were you in my office? And what did you take?”
I shrug. “I grabbed my laptop. My friend knows a guy who can fix it this weekend. I just have to drop it off before they—”
My words trail off as I watch the anger cloud his dark eyes, transforming his features into something almost unrecognizable. I straighten my stance, readying for the attack. This is why I’m in the kitchen.
His neighborhood is too crowded to shoot him, and he’s too unpredictable to choke to death.
But, God, do I want to wrap my fucking hands around his neck and just… Snap.
“So you thought you’d go into my office and steal from me?” he asks, stepping toward me.
“It’s not stealing, David.” I angle to the left as I observe him, lure him. “That laptop is mine.”
“Everything under this roof is mine,” he snarls. “You don’t come into someone else’s house and take things just because you feel like it.”
I lean away from him, moving to the edge of the island, silently begging him to chase me. “You’re joking, right? Have you been drinking or something?”
“Go get it from your fucking car,” he shouts. “And apologize.”
He takes another step, getting closer as he glares at me, trying to force me to obey with nothing but his eyes. I move toward the corner of the kitchen. It’s not smart; there’s no way to avoid his reach…
But the bread knife is waiting for me.
And he’s not expecting me to fight back.
David points at the floor in front of him. “You will bring the laptop back inside, get on your knees, and beg me to forgive you.”
I cough to cover my laughter, but it still comes out as a disbelieving sort of sound.
“There’s only one reason I’d ever lower myself to beg,” I tell him as ice threads through my voice. “And it isn’t for forgiveness.”
We slowly shift around the kitchen, staying a few feet away from each other as he processes my sudden change from submissive Gemma to hostile Jasper. The tension ramps up, searing through my senses until the hairs along my arms stand on end.
My back bumps against the countertop, and his expression morphs into something severe and bloodthirsty.
I feel the same way.
David lunges for me with his hand raised, striking my cheek with enough force to snap my head to the right. Stars dot my vision, and my face burns. I wipe at my nose and find a smudge of blood on my fingers.
That pisses me off more than him hitting me.
