Page 26 of Locke 2

“You’re playing house in a nice little town under a nice little name, but you’re getting bored, aren’t you?” he gritted out, coldly. “You’re calling me back like I’m at your beck and call, like nothing’s changed since the last time you saw me.”

“Believe me, I know everything’s changed,” I retorted.

“How so?”

“You said you’d find me.” I smiled flatly. “You didn’t becauseyougot bored.”

He squeezed my throat a little tighter—tiny fireworks burst through my body—and then abruptly he let go, climbing back off the bed. His touch still seared my throat. It seared my fucking soul. I swallowed hard, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks, the scent of him, his cologne, his essence, clung in the air around me, making my chest tighten painfully. I licked my lips again, hoping to draw his taste back in, but it was clearing and that troubled me.

His hands clenched at his sides as he turned his back to me. I felt my heart spike at his response. I was right then. And why did that hurt? Why did it feel like being here—running—was for nothing all along? It would have been nice if the chase had kept going. If being here, building a life, felt like it was something I needed to do because I had run out of options.

I climbed off the bed, unwilling to let him skirt this.

“Admit it,” I demanded, standing my ground. “You said there was nowhere I could go that you wouldn’t find me, but you were just pretending all along. Pretending I was something special to you—”

“My network doesn’t extend to cute little towns,” he cut in, blandly. “Bet your help knew that, didn’t they?”

“So, then you gave up,” I pressed.

“I didn’t give up.”

“No, you did, because you would have found me. The Almighty Locke with all the power and control to rip throughcities and mine the rich and philanthropic perverts out couldn’t find a loner woman on the run? Just say it. Say you gave up!”

He turned around and looked down at me. My heart was racing as I felt his eyes on my body. Even in the dark, I felt he could see every part of me.

“You want to know that I gave up on you,” he spoke, and it was all ice and toneless. “But you’re the one that didn’t play fair, Kali.”

“I did exactly what you demanded of me,” I growled back, pointing my finger at the floor, my chest heaving as I retorted, “I ran, and you didn’t find me, and I continued to run, even beyond what myhelphad offered me. I kept going, but you weren’t there. You didn’t follow. I played your fucking game, Locke. In fact, I’ve been playing your fucking game right up to this point—”

“You cheated,” he bit back, and this time the anger seeped out of him. “You let Conor and Charlotte help you.”

“Let?” I returned, huffing. “As if I had a fucking choice? You were hunting me down—”

“That’s what we agreed on.”

“It’s not what I wanted.”

Now he stepped closer to me, pointing his finger at me, growling, “It was exactly what you wanted. What we wanted.”

“What do you thinkwewanted?”

“Your surrender.”

I didn’t speak.

There was too much to absorb in those two little words. My response was important. Whether I expressed my profuse denial or admitted my fear of that outcome—both made me look weak.

“Your stubbornness cost us eighteen months,” he bitterly said when the opportunity for me to respond ticked on by. “You chose to run, and you played me dirty, because this wasn’t a fair chase from the start.”

I let out a bitter breath. “Your idea of fair is just to hunt me down and then beat me around—”

“Beat you around?”

“It’s true.”

“I beat you?”

“You were rough on me.”

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