“I need your father to feel the same loss I did.” There’s a beat of silence before he continues. “And ripping you away from him will ensure just that. Only I have no intention to harm you.”
Does that mean my father has hurt someone close to him, maybe even the man himself? Somehow, I have a hard time believing that.
“Unless you want me to.” The way he lowers his voice isn’t lost on me.
“Not going to happen.” I snap, feeling all flustered as blood rushes to my face.
“I mean it, little one. I'll take good care of you.”
Why does he have to keep saying things like that? It would be much easier if I could just hate him with a passion but that has never been my strongest suit. The people-pleaser in me won’t allow it.
Besides, I hate to admit that his justification for kidnapping me is nagging at my conscience because I feel like there’s a kernel of reason behind it.
No person takes such drastic measures to prove a point if they haven’t been driven to it.
Ugh, only I would sympathize with my abductor.
“For how long? I echo weakly, recognizing that my fate is in his hands from now on.
His jaw ticks but he doesn’t answer, returning to his ministrations on my thigh.
As we keep driving down the remote road, away from the last signs of civilization, the man next to me relaxes visibly in his seat.
Leaning back with a sigh, he tugs the mask off his face and from the corner of my eye, I can see him ruffle his hair.
My eyes widen, shocked by the sudden loss of anonymity.
My self-restraint snaps as I turn to look at him, to fully take him in. To my disbelief, my core tightens as I drink in his hard, manly features.
A wide, strong jaw covered in scruff, full lips and a nose that looks like it has been broken a couple of times, adding a certain level of roughness to his look.
Soft, black curls are messily sprawled on his head with a few stray pieces falling across his forehead, covering those dark eyes that could stare right into one’s soul.
I’ve never seen a more handsome man, in the most brutal way possible.
He’s lethal.
There’s nothing gentle about him. Only ruthless masculinity that would intimidate anyone who’d dare to come close. The pure dominance radiating off him, it’s luring me in.
My whole body feels like it’s on fire just by looking at him.
My insides liquifying at the way his jawline flexes in concentration, making the muscles in his neck protrude.
Judging by the fine lines at the corners of his eyes as he squints at the road, I’d say the man is in his late twenties.
Sensing the intensity of my stare, he turns towards me, his bottomless eyes trapping mine, refusing to let go.
“Tyson,” He offers me his right hand like the perfect gentlemen, and I simply stare at it dumbfounded. “Corso.”
Tyson Corso.
That’s his name.
And why is he giving it up to me like he’s not expecting me to turn him in the first change I get?That can’t be good.
“M-malory” I manage to choke out, setting my palm into his much larger one.
“I know.” He keeps my hand engulfed in his for a beat longer than necessary, making me struggle to take the next breath.