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The will I or won’t I shit is driving me crazy.
Fuck it, I’m jumping off the cliff. I want him. Badly.
“Maybe?” I ask more than assert. Okay, not jumping too fast off the cliff.
Rax grunts. “Think that’s smart, sweet pea?”
One of my shoulders lifts in a halfhearted shrug. “Probably not.” I don’t add more, so he won’t try to use it against me.
When I look up at him, I see his smirk is still in place. He drinks the rest of his water, moving around me to toss it in the trash. “It’s not, sweet pea.” Getting close to my ear, he says, “I bite.”
I shiver, knowing it’s probably not a good idea to be turned on my him, especially since I’m here against my will, but I guess I really am a danger whore.
As he ascends the stairs, I call after him. “Wait!”
He stops but doesn’t turn around. “What? I’m tired.”
“Can I sleep with you?” Definitely a danger whore.
Rax’s deep chuckle washes over me and my shoulders slump. Another rejection. I open my mouth to say never mind, but he says, “It’s your funeral. I told you I bite.”
Finishing my water, I hurry up the stairs, catching up with him as he opens the bedroom door that he claimed as his.
His room is bigger, the bed larger. I glance inside and see that his bathroom has a jacuzzi tub and a shower that can fit about five Raxes inside.
He took the good bedroom.
“In,” Rax says when he lifts the blankets.
“Are we spooning?”
“I don’t cuddle.”
That shuts me down again, but I don’t mind. I usually sleep on my own, but being in this house with all the windows and hearing the crickets louder here than they are in Reverdale, I’d rather have some company. Also, the stress of this whole situation. I can’t shut my brain off as quickly as I would any other time.
“Okay,” I mutter, climbing between the sheets he pulled back.
He slides in, settling on his back while I turn to face him. “What?” he asks, even though his eyes are closed.
“Was it hard?”
He cracks an eye open and looks at me. “Was what hard?”
“Prison,” I whisper. “Was it hard being in there? For seven years?”
“Seven years and three months.” He closes his eyes again. “It wasn’t a walk in the park, but it wasn’t hard. It was… boring. Tedious. Same thing day after day, week after week. Compound that by over seven years. I mostly kept my head down.”
I nod as if I understand, though I could never. I don’t ever want to go to prison or be in the position to go to prison.
Then I think about what I’m doing—getting chummy with a convicted felon that has killed people and escaped prison. I helped him. I drove him around, took him to his club house, didn’t put up a fight and now I’m in his bed. I’ll be an accessory or something, right? I could be arrested and—
“You won’t get in trouble, Finn. You can have Stockholm Syndrome or some shit.”
“Do I?”
Rax turns to his side and looks at me and I notice for the first time how blue his eyes are. They seem to glow in the dim light, almost like he can see through me. He rubs over his trimmed beard and my eyes track the movement. I like it better than the long beard, but only by a small margin. He’s fucking fire either way.
“You’re in my bed, no cuffs, without me having to ask,” he rumbles, sending a jolt through my system. “You’re not afraid of me, but that’s self-preservation talking. You know if given the chance, you’d leave, but you don’t want to because you know I’ll keep you safe, regardless of this fucked up situation you’re in. Sounds like textbook Stockholm Syndrome to me.”
