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“No, I’m married to a woman who is a known partyer, who has made no secret of how little she wants to be here, and who is in very real danger from a very powerful man. I did what I had to do to make sure you were safe, and after last night, you’ll be lucky if I don’t plant a tracker on your person.” The thought has certainly crossed my mind, and it has merit.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind.” Isla shoves up from the couch and storms into the bedroom before I can stop her, slamming the door behind her as if that will keep me from following her.
She doesn’t seem to realize I’ll follow her to the end of the goddamn earth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ISLA
Idon’t know if I’m more pissed at him for putting a tracker on my phone or at myself for not figuring it out earlier. The way he acted when we first got here, the rules he set for me like a naughty teenager, it makes so much sense it fucking hurts.
Knowing he’s probably going to follow me, I make quick work of gathering the things I need for a shower and lock myself in the bathroom.
I’m not under any kind of misconception that something as small as a locked door can protect me from Doc, but for now it’s enough to let me gather my thoughts.
I turn the shower on as hot as my skin can handle and then tip it just a little hotter, needing the water to wash away this batshit crazy morning and distract me from the fact that not only did I wake up to Doc literally coming on me, but the revelation that he can track me wherever I go. Short of throwing the phone in the trash and getting a new one, I have no idea how to stop it. Hell, even if I did that, it would only be a matter of time before he did the same thing to the new phone. So what’s the point?
I’m starting to wonder if the man has any boundaries.
I go through the motions of my shower, scrubbing harder than I need to in the hope it will wash away the weirdestmorning of my life, but I think it would take more than some soap and water to do that.
The hot water bites into my skin, leaving red splotches in its wake, but even when my body screams at me to turn more cold on, I push through until I can’t handle it anymore and turn the shower off.
When I step out of the huge stall, I’m not surprised to find Doc sitting on the edge of the bathtub. I am, however, surprised I didn’t hear him. How the hell does the man move so quietly when he’s so huge?
I reach for a towel and wrap it around my body as if it will do anything to protect myself from him, but we both know he could have me out of it in a split second if he wanted.
“Am I no longer allowed to shower alone?” I snap, moving to the basin and brushing out my knotty hair. I’ve thought about cutting it more times than I can count, especially in the last few years, but I almost feel like my long black hair is part of my identity, and I already feel adrift more often than not. Adding to that would only make things harder.
I watch him in the mirror as he stands and moves behind me, his hand wrapping around mine and plucking the brush from my fingers. It looks impossibly small in his hands, but then again, I think Doc could make the Great Wall of China look tiny.
He drags the brush through my hair with such softness I can barely believe it’s him at the helm. But then again, it’s hardly the first time his gentleness has surprised me.
“I’m sorry you feel I have been too heavy-handed with things so far—” he starts.
“Heavy-handed?” I scoff. “Is that what you call it?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, but you’d never tell by how the brush moves through my knots. “I just want to keep you safe, and if that means I have to track your phone and know whereyou are at all times, that’s what I’m going to do. Your safety is not something I’m ever going to be willing to risk.”
I allow my eyes to fall closed as I steel myself against the man who is saying all the right things. “And what happened when I woke up?” I lock eyes with him in the mirror.
A smirk tips up the corners of his lips as he places the brush on the basin and moves both hands to my lips, locking me in place. “I was marking what’s mine.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on between us,” I whisper, because right now it all feels like too much. His breath on my bare shoulder, the possessive grip he has on my hips, his intense stare that even through the mirror feels as if it’s burning me.
Before I can take a breath, he plucks me off the ground, for what feels like the tenth time today, and deposits me on the basin before stepping between my legs.
This man and his manhandling are getting real fucking old fast.
“Do you want me to spell it out for you, spitfire?”
I nod, unable to force words from between my lips when he’s looking at me like he wants to eat me alive.
“You are my wife. I understand that you believe this marriage is anything but real, but that’s not how it is for me, and I’m waiting for you to get on the same page. As you may be able to tell, I’m not a patient man, nor am I a good man. So I will steal and covet what belongs to me, even if you don’t realize you fall into that category.”
“But…” I’m not even sure what to say because every moment since we first met is playing on a loop in my mind, searching for whatever I’ve missed that got him to this point and left me behind. “You didn’t want to marry me. You said yourself that it wasn’t a choice you made for yourself. And then you didn’t speak to me for a week! I just…I don’t understand.”
He nods, his eyes moving from my eyes to my lips, and then back again. “You’re right. The idea of getting married again sounded like the worst thing that could ever happen to me when we first met.”
