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Still, my mounting frustration causes me to grab hold of the window, trying to open it. Sweat pours down my back, my hair sticking uncomfortably to the back of my neck, as I yank and tug, gritting my teeth, trying to get the fucking window to budge.
Mustering up all my strength, I make fists, banging the side of my hands against the sash of the window. My hands throb from hitting the unflinching vinyl material surrounding the glass.
As I’m gently rubbing over the ache in my hand, the lock turns, and the door is thrust open. A shirtless William steps through the door, his chest heaving, eyes blazing with distrust as he stares me down. “Irelynn.” He speaks to me through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you doing?”
My body trembles and I run a hand through my hair, my mind spinning. Clearing my throat, I swallow hard. “I got out of bed because I needed to use the restroom. In my haste to get there, I tripped over my own feet and tried to catch myself. I flew into the window instead of the wall.” I rub over my sore hand, making sure it appears I’m rubbing the palms, so my story is even more convincing. I wince as I do, and his face softens slightly.
But there’s still an air of distrust surrounding him.
Nodding, he scrapes a hand through his hair. “You set off the alarm.”
“Oh,” I sheepishly shrug, my eyes downcast. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry I woke you. Hopefully, I didn’t wake Emma as well.”
He steps toward me, causing fear to course through my body. The bathroom is right beside me, so I nod my head, saying, “Now I really have to go.” I dash inside, shutting the door and locking it behind me, my heart hammering inside my chest, making me feel faint.
After a few beats, I flush the toilet to sound convincing, then wash my hands, wincing as I rub them together. I move as slowly as I can, dreading opening the door and facing him, as I’m certain he hasn’t left the room.
Taking a deep breath, my sweaty hand grips the door handle.
Pulling the door open, he stands there, his arms crossed, his eyes glinting with… malice… darkness… anger?
The fake smile slides off my face as my pulse races.
Crossing my arms over my chest, the only thing I can think is,Fuck, I’m in trouble.
Chapter six
Irelynn
October7,2018,6:15a.m.
I stare into William’s frigid eyes, trying to swallow the lump inside my throat and praying I don’t scream. My limbs shake as my heart races. It feels like it’s going to explode inside my chest.
A slow smile crosses his face as he beckons me closer. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough night.”
Stepping closer to him, I push a lock of hair behind my ear. A weak smile is on my lips as I glance up at him, then down at my feet. “You know me. I’m clumsy.”
He chuckles, the sound not doing much to dispel my fears. “I remember.” Gently, he grabs my palms, flipping them over and inspecting them, and I hold my breath. The gray light flows through the window, turning the bedroom a dull, depressing color. But the gray dawn provides enough light for him to see my hands as he twists and studies them. “Hmm. It appears they are really red at the sides, rather than your palms.”
Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, my voice shakes slightly as I say, “Well, I don’t do things normally. When I felt myself falling, I clenched my hands into fists. Not sure why.”
He raises a brow, studying me intently. “Do you need some ice for them?”
I shake my head. “No, the sting is already lessening. Besides, I don’t want to be a bother—”
He stops me by pressing his finger against my lips. “Nonsense. You’re never an inconvenience.” Removing his finger, he says, “Once again, do you need some ice?”
“No, I’m fine. But thank you, Will.”
His smile is soft and genuine. Exhaling a huge breath, my lips part, matching his smile.
Taking my hand, he leads me to my bed. “You look tired. Why don’t you go back to sleep? Emma said you were having issues sleeping.”
As I climb onto the mattress, a sense of desperation steals over me. Gripping his hand tighter, I plop down, my eyes pleading. “Can you tell me what you found…” I swallow hard, the lump in my throat. “At the warehouse?”
He frowns, his brows lowering. “Why don’t we save that for a little later? I think it’s more important that you get some rest.”
“Will, please.” My hand clutches his arm, my nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. My eyes plead with him to reveal something. Anything.
