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I’m cautious as I take the stairs, half expecting them to collapse under us. This house may have water and electricity, but I can’t say much for the construction. There’s dry rot on the walls and I’ll be lucky to find a room that isn’t damp from all the holes in the roof.
I check out all three rooms and push Grace through the door of the only one that has a bed.
“You’ll sleep here,” I tell her impatiently, noticing how her eyes flick disappointingly around the dreary room.
“There’s no pillows or blankets.” She looks horrified when she notices the stained mattress.
“What were you expecting, room service to bring you some up?” I force her forward so she tumbles face-first onto the dirty mattress, and she makes a tiny squeal that has me wanting to strip her of those shorts and fuck more sounds out of her.
Apart from the bed, the room is empty, and I notice how she looks straight at the window, her brain already formulating an escape plan.
“It’s kind of you to let me have the room with the bed.” She pulls herself back together, morphing back into that friendly act she’s almost choking herself on.
“Not kind.” I take the handcuffs from my back pocket. “Practical.” The way her nostrils flare in annoyance, tempts me to rile her some more. But that ain’t gonna do me no favors. I have to stay focused on the job. Putting some space between us might make me stop thinking about all the things I wanna do to her.
Snatching at her arm, I snap the cuff around her wrist, then attach the other cuff to the metal framework of the bed.
“I’ll be out in the hall.”
“You’re leaving me in here on my own?” I can’t decide if she sounds shocked or scared at the thought of me leaving.
“I ain’t sticking around to tell you a bedtime story.” I head for the door.
“Brax.” The way she whispers my name has me quickly spinning around, and I cuss myself for it. “Why am I here?” she asks again, so pitifully that I almost wanna give her an answer.
Almost.
I ignore her question, shutting the door and leaving her in pitch black. I can’t risk going far so I sit on the floor, and rest my shoulders against the banister of the stairs. I stare at her door, wondering what she’s doing on the other side of it. Will she finally give in to her emotions now that she’s alone? Let herself cry all those tears she’s been holding back from me?
I imagine she’d look pretty falling apart. Those big green eyes filled with tears that spill through her lashes onto her cheeks, while her lips tremble out of fear.
She can play pretend as much as she likes. I scare her, she told me that herself. I don’t think she meant to, but at the time she was too shocked to deny me fear.
And she’s right to be afraid, judging by the way Prez has thought this all out, the shit she’s in is serious.
A furry head nestles onto my lap, and I pat him, letting him know it’s okay for him to keep it there.
I’ve liked dogs ever since I was a kid. Mama always promised we’d get one when she’d saved enough money for us to get our own place.
That never happened, none of the things Mama promised happened. But none of them matter anymore. What matters is that I stick to my promise, and that the person who took her life pays for it with theirs.
No one in the club knows about my past, not even Jessie, and he knows me better than anyone. Besides, if Jessie knew everything I did, he’d be chasing the same retribution as me.
I haven’t shared the story of our past with Nyx yet. Like me, he doesn’t deal well with all the heavy emotional shit. And our shit’s so fuckin’ heavy that it’s weighed me down for twenty years. I can’t remember a time when my heart didn’t carry hate, and my dreams haven’t been plagued with vengeance.
This job Prez got me sitting on, is just another obstacle preventing me from getting closer to nailing the man who stole her away from me.
Over the years, frustration has made my hate grow thicker. It’s spread and consumed me. And now I could kill that bastard a thousand times over and I doubt I’ll ever be healed of the curse he put inside me.
I wake up with a stiff back from sleeping on this filthy mattress. Somehow, during the night I managed to find a spot where the springs didn’t dig into my skin, and I actually got a little sleep.
I shake my wrist hoping to get some life back into the arm that’s cuffed to the metal bed frame.
Daylight shines brightly through the window, doing its best to lighten the bleak room I’m in, and I quickly scowl when the door opens and the man who took me steps through it.
I hate him.
Not just because the asshole kidnapped me, I’d still dislike him if he hadn’t. He has a stinking attitude and carries a real chip on those big strong shoulders of his. But most of all I hate him for being so fuckin’ hot.
