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“Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her vocal cords felt swollen and coated in rust. Burying her nose into his shoulder, she hid her face. “I’m scared,” she admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of this guy. Of what could happen. Why did you have to do those things to him, Sebastian?”
He sighed. His swallow was the only thing to break the silence. Looking up, she watched the emotions play across his face. It hardened, and for a second there was a brief flash of anger. Anger and something else. Something much more sinister—darker. The muscles beneath her head tightened with his shrug.
“It’s part of who I am,” he admitted quietly. “It’s what I had to do. To protect you. To protect us.”
“But all he did was touch me. Even Josh said he was drunk.”
Sebastian shook his head. “No, Taylor. It was so much more. He crossed the line, and I pushed him back over it. I can’t afford to be weak, let alone show it. Especially not in front of my team. Those men depend on me to lead them and set an example. You depend on me.” He sighed again. “The why doesn’t matter. In the end, this is where we are. I’ll order extra security and have them stationed outside. No one will be able to get in without my say and you,” he said, planting a tender kiss on her palm, “are to stay put. I don’t want you leaving this house unless I’m with you.”
“For how long?” she whispered.
“At least until we have this whole mess straightened out.” He offered a slight smile and traced her shoulder with his forefinger. “Maybe never.”
Taylor sat up, levering her head off his shoulder. Her eyes flew to his face, searching for some sign, any sign, that he was joking. He regarded her with a curious stare, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. She licked her lips, but they still felt parched, her tongue thick and swollen.
“Sebastian…I love you, and I understand we need to be careful right now, but that’s not funny. You can’t really expect me to live the rest of my life locked up here like some kind of prisoner.”
His head tilted. “Prisoner? You have everything here.”
“I’m not saying it’s not beautiful, but if you keep me under lock and key, it’s still a cage even if it’s gilded.”
“Is that what you want, Taylor?” he whispered quietly.
She swallowed as his eyes narrowed and took on that dangerous gleam.
“Do you want to see what being under lock and key really is? I assure you that can be arranged.”
Her heart sank then hammered. “No, Sebastian. Please, just listen to me. I’m just saying it’s not fair…I don’t want--”
“Not everything is about what you want, Taylor. This conversation is done. Get some sleep.”
“No.”
“No?” he asked softly.
She knew that tone, that word, and that pressing tilt of his head all too well. She’d only experienced what followed once or twice before, but that was enough. She’d witnessed the aftermath more times than she cared to count. Her breath hitched and she inched toward the other side of the bed. Feeling him tense, she scrambled to get clear of the mattress. He snared her hair and wrenched her back with a savage yank. A pained cry tore from her lips, and she struggled as he loomed over her. Absolute fury twisted his features into a fearsome mask. Taylor trembled at the rage brewing in his eyes. The fist in her hair tightened, and the other clamped around her throat, pinning her to the bed and cutting off her feeble attempts at getting air.
“Taylor, Taylor,” he whispered with a slow shake of his head. “Where did you think you were going to go?”
Unable to answer, she stared back at him with tear-filled, pleading eyes. He released her neck, but a vicious backhand snapped her head to the side. White-hot pain exploded across her cheek. Dizzying light detonated before her eyes. The bite of his fingers silenced her anguished scream.
“I warned you,” he said, unfurling his hand from her hair to stroke her blazing cheek in a deceptive caress. “Don’t you ever try to run from me. Ever. Do you want to leave me, Taylor? Is that what you were trying to do?”
Her lungs ached, burning in her chest. Her heart felt like it would explode. She tried to clamp her legs together to still the throb of her bladder. Whimpering low in her throat, she shook her head as much as his hold would allow. Desperate to appease him, she reached up and ran her trembling fingers along his arm. Dizzy and disorientated she gasped for air, sobbing and begging, as he hauled her to her feet. Her legs caved. Falling, she crumpled at his feet. Strong fingers sank into her arm, dragging her across the room. The carpet abraded her knees as she fought for enough purchase to stand. She barely recognized her own voice or the broken cries echoing through the room.
Cold terror silenced her as Sebastian pulled the drawer to his nightstand open and her gaze locked on the gleaming silver pistol in his hand. The click of the safety sounded with the force of a cannon in her ears. Shaking her head, her eyes darted to his, pleading. Her hands shook as she lifted them. A low, keening whimper broke from her throat as Sebastian crouched on the floor beside her. His lean muscles constricted like a snake as he wrapped an arm around her.
“Do you want to leave, Taylor?” he asked softly.
She winced, trembling as the cold press of steel kissed her temple. “N-nooo p-pleaaasee. Please, Sebastian.”
“Shh,” he soothed, stroking the back of her head. “Listen to me carefully, sweetheart, because I am only going to say this once. This…this is the only way you are ever going to get to leave me.”
She sobbed, choking back a scream as his lips settled above the gun, kissing the side of her head.
“Do you understand me?”
Her chest jerked with rapid inhales. She was panting, her breath coming a hundred miles a minute. Slamming her eyes shut, Taylor nodded. God help her, she was going to pee—and then he really would kill her. Her body snapped into rigid tension as she felt him smile into her hair.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
Standing, he crossed the room and retrieved his pants. After pulling them back on, he relocked the safety and tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. She remained
crouched on the floor, too terrified to move, as his pale stare bore into her.
“I’m going to assume whatever you came down with has made you delirious. Get back in bed. I have some work to do. If you are smart, you’ll get some rest and pray your attitude improves by morning.”
V.
She’d never put much stock or belief into fairytales. It was hard to believe in things like happily ever after when your father walked out on you at such a young age. It was harder still to cling to that faith when your own mother turned her back on you years later. But last night—Taylor shook her head. Last night something deep inside her had shattered and broken. Whatever small illusions she’d clung to had withered and died between the brutal slaps and the cold press of steel. Her lips trembled as she regarded her face in the mirror. Faint marks still marred the high ridges of both cheeks. Dark, troubled shadows stretched beneath her eyes, like the remnants of a boxer’s fists. That, she could almost handle. What killed her was the heartbreak, the anguish of losing what she thought she had. Her chest ached and her stomach remained knotted with cold dread. Everything in life was a lie.
Tears spilled unbidden as she tugged her hair up into a loose ponytail. She wanted to go back. To find that place where they were before, to not know the things Sebastian was capable of doing. But there was no return trip. No way home. Her eyes were open now, and she had no idea how she was going to face him again. The only thing that was clear anymore was that she had no choice. No say.
She turned from the mirror and crossed the expansive bedroom to peer out the window. He was ever a man of his word. Armed guards stood stationed near the front gates, their figures dark and ominous against the bright morning cheer of the sun. Her shoulders fell as she swallowed against the lump in her throat. Maybe it wasn’t Sebastian’s intentions in the beginning, but she had no doubt he’d given them strict orders to keep everyone else out and her in. Shame washed over her, dragging up the first pangs of guilt. What had she done? In some sick way, she couldn’t help but feel she was partially to blame. Leaving him had never been her intention. At least not then. Now—now, she wasn’t so sure. Her mind argued she should. Her heart clutched at threads. He was under a tremendous amount of stress. She should have kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to push. A million things, a million reasons fluttered through her brain. Most of them disintegrated like ash before she could cling to the hope they offered.
