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“Scotty?” she whispers.
I swallow, forcing away the lump in my throat. She never calls me by that name, and I’m desperate to hear her call me Jaime. I don’t like the way “Scotty” sounds leaving her mouth. Her hand grabs my wrist and she squeezes.
“What?” I ask.
Emerald irises meet mine, striking at my heart, piercing me as I process and try to decipher what’s going through her pretty little head. I brush back the hair from her face, and she nuzzles her cheek into my palm.
“Please don’t leave me again.”
Chapter Nineteen
Iflipthroughmyonline shopping cart, having completely abandoned the rest of my work for the day. After Scotty’s apartment, we took Frog back to my house to get settled. Callum’s house assistant had already dropped off the litter box and food.
We spent an hour getting him situated and decided locking him in the home office while we were gone to get accustomed to the new space was best. Scotty had been in shock that the cat took a liking to me. Apparently he’s a dick to Finn.
I pull the wallet from my purse to purchase the excessive amount of crap I’ve just put in an online shopping cart for a cat that’s not even mine. He’s got a cat tree coming, an exercise wheel, too many toys to describe, another litter box for the second floor, and new food bowls that all fit the aesthetic of my house. Gray and navy with a pop of dusty pink or rose gold.
Boy or not, Frog is going to wear the custom navy collar I bought with pale pink frogs embroidered on it. The food and water bowls are navy too, with his name scripted in rose gold.
I try not to think about how quickly the cat I gave Scotty is somehow turning into mine. He doesn’t need all of these things if he’s just going to return back to the apartment when this threat over my head disappears.
I also don’t want to think about what it means that Darcy was in his home waiting for him to return from work. That he’s taking her to dinner this evening. Sure, it was my idea. I was jealous, and in the moment I wanted to play dirty. I wanted to toss Corbin his way as a threat.
Darcy’s a widow, still grieving her husband, but I can’t deny that the way she looks at Scotty is with attraction. She’s complicated, like me. He seems to like that. But I can’t help but think how much less complicated she’d be. No Mafia, no dangerous threats, no murders occurring from home invasions and attempted kidnappings.
I push away those thoughts, filling out the credit card information.
There’s a tap at the office door before it flings open. Scotty slides in, shooting me a smirk when he closes the door. The kind that makes my heart stop and takes my breath away. I hate how handsome he is, just existing. He turns the lock, then reaches for the blinds on the open window to the right. He twists the plastic rod until they’re closed.
My heart thuds faster when he approaches me, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a dark grin written all over his face. When he reaches my chair, he rests his hands on either side of it, and twirls me so I’m facing him. I gaze up at him, waiting to see what he’ll say or do.
He drops his head lower until his mouth is against my ear. Warm breath tickles my neck, prickling the soft hairs there.
“Take off the ring,” he says, his voice deadly, using an aggrieved tone that strikes me straight to my core.
My throat bobs. “I can’t.”
“The engagement is fake. Take. It. Off.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly too thick. Scotty glares at me, a malicious glint in his eyes. One of his hands grasps one of my wrists, pinning it against the arm of the computer chair. The other reaches for his tie, undoing the knot with one hand.
I watch intently, my thighs squeezing shut as the vein in his neck bulges. When he gets it free, he grabs my other wrist. My lips part as I suck in a sharp breath. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
My body shivers at the cruel tone he uses.
His fingers move quickly, making loops and knots with the silk fabric of his tie. He grabs me by the throat. It’s not enough to hurt, but stern enough that I follow his motions, standing as he guides me. When I’m standing before him, he releases my throat, then grabs the back of my neck and spins me so my back is to him.
I suck in a breath, curiosity making me go with him, waiting to see what will happen next. I trust Scotty fully, with my life, my body. Whatever he’s about to do won’t hurt me.
My arms are yanked behind me, and he slides them through the loops of his tie. The material is a fine fiber that feels like butter against my skin. I throw my head back against him, resting it on his shoulder. He’s still angry, his lips formed in a viscous pout. Fire coats the inside of my stomach and my core clenches around nothing.
He tugs the tie tighter around my wrist with a rough motion. “I’m showing you who you belong to, Saoirse.”
I wet my lips with my tongue as he spins me. He pushes me against the desk, then lifts me up so I’m sitting on it, my hands bound behind my back. Then, he shoves against my shoulder hard enough that I fall back, landing on papers.
My bound hands can’t catch my fall, and I let out a shriek when my shoulder lands on a picture frame. Scotty doesn’t help me get comfortable. He doesn’t even give me time to breathe, or figure out what the hell is going on as he hikes up the skirt of my pencil dress and yanks at the lace thong I’m wearing. The tearing sound fills the room.
