He scrubs at my face, probably harder than necessary, but I submit, letting him do whatever he wants. It’s not like I could stop him, even if I wanted to.
When he is satisfied, he tosses the wipe on the floor. I expect him to slide back to his side of the car, but instead, he gets closer. “When we get home, you will give me answers. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook just because I haven’t stripped you naked and forced you to talk.”
The idea of him using sex to wring answers from my heated body short-circuits my brain for a moment. I didn’t doubt he could do it for a second. Especially not with the way he’s looking at me right now.
I swallow hard, and it’s loud enough I can hear it over the sounds of the city passing outside. “So the council isn’t going to kill me?” I trust him to protect me from them, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe.
He shifts again and rubs his thumb down my cheek gently. “The council won’t lay a hand on you, Angel. But that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you myself. I haven’t quite decided yet.”
I shiver as I stare into his eyes. His threat sounds more like a promise…and that’s only going to get worse when he learns the truth.
8
ADRIAN
As much as I wish I could, I can’t kill her. Things would be easier if I could cut her out of my life. Then she can’t hurt me, can’t be used against me, and can’t throw me away like everyone else does.
I settle into the seat beside her and try to ignore how she’s shivering. It’s the shock, and I’ve fortified her against it, but there’s only so much I can do right now.
When we arrive at the penthouse, I shrug out of my jacket and help her into it to cover the blood splatter on her clothes.
I help her out of the SUV and lift her chin to meet my eyes. “Smile, walk in like it’s a regular ole day.”
She nods, swallowing heavily. My security knows she went missing, but only a select few. The regular guards aren’t privy to everyday household operations. So when my men see us together, I don’t want any reason to question our presence. These days, I don’t know who I can trust, save my five, because spies are always willing to cross alliances for a high enough price.
I clutch her to my side, and she’s rigid, her smile forced and wooden. It’ll do since most of my employees are afraid to even look at her too long out of fear of what I might do to them. It pays to be the king.
I lead her onto the elevator, her body still even as she clutches my hand, hers threaded on top of where mine holds her waist.
The penthouse is deserted when we step out of the elevator. She pauses when moving over the threshold into the foyer, her body trembling hard against me a moment, and then she regains control.
I lead her to the bedroom because we are about to have a very violent conversation, and I want privacy.
I release her once we’re inside the bedroom, and she stumbles a few steps and then sinks onto a chair in the corner, her head hung, every bright shining thing about her dimmed and dull. Did I do this to her? Or was it her father?
The question remains…
“Why did you leave, Angel?” I try to keep my voice level and calm. Maybe if I stay calm, she will finally give me some answers.
She shakes her head after a few seconds of silence. I curl my hands around the chair opposite hers and resist the urge to throw it across the room. At least she didn’t pretend not to hear me.
I stalk around the chair and grab at the elastic in her hair, removing it to let her curls fall around her face and shoulders where they belong. The strands hang dull, dirty, and defiled, just like her.
It eats at me to see her this way, a shadow of the woman I love. If only she’d tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it. Take us back to where we were when she met my eyes without fear. Had it only been a couple of days ago? I feel like I haven’t touched her in so long…too long.
“Are you going to tell me anything? Or sit there until I force it out of you? I know you don’t want me to be that man, but I will…until you tell me what’s wrong.” I fist my hands on top of the chair and focus on staying steady. I hate this feeling, like everything in me is raging to get free if I don’t hear her say something to defend herself, explain her actions.
This cowering sniveling creature is not the woman who came to me all those months ago with a deal. She’s not the woman who stripped naked to bare her pain in exchange for a promise.
But now…she has a promise to keep. And I won’t give her the option of backing out, not when I’ve finally held up my end of our bargain. It would have been a cherry on top to get her father too and save her this pain, but maybe one day, she’ll be thankful she got to pull that trigger.
I crouch in front of her and force her chin up. She squeezes her eyes closed, and I grip her chin a little tighter. “You are not a child, Angel, so stop acting like one. What is this? What’s going on? Talk to me.”
She sniffles. “Or what? Will you torture it out of me? Force me to tell you whatever I’m willing just to get you to stop. It doesn’t sound like a good strategy.”
Bold words from a woman who hasn’t stopped shaking since I dragged her out of that motel room.
I shove her chin up and away from me, pushing her back into the chair. “You might think I have a soft spot for you, and you aren’t wrong, but I always take what is owed to me. We made a deal, etched in blood, and I’ve already carried out my end. Your part is simple…you belong to me.”
I stand and stalk around the other chair again, keeping the piece of furniture between us. “It’s simple. You hold up your end of the deal, and we’re fine. If you intend to run the moment you gain any freedom, I’ll keep you chained to my bed like a pet.”
She sobs, and I don’t let it fracture this anger I’m gathering around me like a shield. I’ve never needed a shield. Not until her. She does something to me, twists me up until all I can think about is laying my claim into her skin over and over again.
“Why are you saying these things?” she whispers.
This time, I do throw the chair. I shove it over and out of my way to get to her easier. Taking her arms in my grip, I shake her. “When I woke up a couple of days ago, I thought I knew my place in the world. And then I came home to an empty penthouse, and my first thought was that someone betrayed me and took you. It didn’t occur to me you were the one who shoved that knife into my back. And then tonight you call me, asking for help, and I provide it. All I want in return are answers…and you can’t even give me that.”
Her only response is to hang her head. Heavy tears beat against her bloodstained jeans in dark dots.
I push her back into the chair again, disgusted. She’d been tortured and left for dead by her fiancé and wasn’t this useless afterward. Why is she now? What’s happened that she’s so scared of me, or of something she’s not telling me?
The remaining alcohol in my system is making me tired, but I can’t sleep, not while knowing she could walk out that door in the middle of the night.
I stalk around the room, needing to burn off some of this anger before I do something I’ll regret. “Why are you just sitting there crying? Why aren’t you defending yourself? Yelling at me? Screaming? Anything!” I roar.