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“But it’s actually worse than bad. It’s psychotic.”
I stroke my thumb across her cheek. “I like that you’re here.”
“Yeah, because you get to fuck me, and you seem to enjoy that.”
“Yes, I do, very much so.”
“It’s not just the sex, although I enjoy that too.” She grins at me, almost shy, but it fades. “Everything makes me want to stay. The studio, the food. I know I’m a prisoner, but I also feel free. I do nothing but think about painting all day long for the first time in my life, something I’ve always wanted to do. Even back in art school, there was always something else, some distraction. Here, it’s just… painting. And it’s amazing.”
“But you’re still my prisoner.”
“Yep. Still your prisoner.”
“How do we fix that?”
“I don’t know.”
We lapse into silence. I understand her hesitation, but it’s not like I can let her go—and she doesn’t want me to. Even if I did, Frost or Gallo would scoop her up. If I said she was free, it wouldn’t mean anything, because her freedom is effectively gone. This house is the only safe place in the world for her right now.
Her breathing gets measured. She snuggles closer. “You’re falling asleep,” I say.
“Should I go back to my room?”
“No. Stay. But you might want to eat.”
“I’m fine. I’ll eat, I don’t know, at some point. Just hold me and let me sleep, okay?”
A stronger man would drag her from bed and feed her.
Instead, I kiss her and let her drift.
Chapter28
Hellie
Yep, there is something massively wrong with me.
I mean, who the hell in their right mind admits to their freaking captor that they have feelings for them?
The guy is my warden. He’s my freaking kidnapper.
And I have feelings for him.
I didn’t say that to distract him from the real reason why I was being distant—although that was a bonus.
I told him because it’s true.
He feels the same. Maybe he didn’t say the words but I felt it when he kissed me. I can feel it, every day, when he stands and watches me paint with that intense admiration, that pure joy in his eyes, like he can’t believe his luck. An artist, working just for him.
No, not just an artist—me, Hellie Accardi.
Erick’s up and gone early the next morning. I spend more time in his bed, lounging around, feeling sorry for myself.
Dad’s email said to meet him in one day. I have one day to figure out what I’m going to do.
I could tell Erick. Some part of me wants to. But Dad stole a lot of money, and while I think Erick has feelings for me, I don’t think they’re strong enough to keep him from murdering my old man.
Which means that would be sentencing my father to death.
