Page 40 of His Dark Purpose

“They’re out there.” He nodded toward the door, pulling it open to reveal a glimmer of the hall outside. “I won’t be a minute.”

Striding into the dark passageway, he paused to catch his breath. It was astonishing how quickly the dynamic between them, which he’d worked so hard to enforce, had crumbled. She’d only referred to him as sir once or twice since he’d walked in with the food, and he was pretty sure she’d wielded the word ironically when she had. Even worse, he’d barely even moved to correct her.

It was all falling apart, and he couldn’t seem to get a grip on himself.

What’s wrong with me?

The Kyle he knew wouldn’t have thought twice about accepting her sass. He’d have had her flung facefirst over the bed and tanned her pretty backside for her impertinence, but all he’d wanted to do was contract at her criticism.

Feeling for the wall with his left hand, he considered flicking on the light to help him find where he’d dropped her cutlery, but he didn’t have the will. There were various antique-looking mirrors along the way in the corridor, and the idea of catching sight of himself in one of them was suddenly demoralizing. He couldn’t face the concept of seeing himself, of looking into his sad eyes and knowing that something inside him was irrevocably altered, knowing that she’d been able to command those changes in him, and there was apparently nothing he could do to rectify things.

“Shit!”

Pulling in a breath, the sense of impotency was crippling. It was something he wasn’t used to feeling. Stumbling along the corridor, he hoped to God, it would soon pass.

“Get a fucking grip.”

His temple throbbed with the urgency lingering in his tone, and glancing back, he wished he’d closed the door behind him. The last thing he needed was for Amy to realize how rapidly he appeared to be losing the plot. If he had any chance of clawing back his authority—and he had to believe he did—then she couldn’t recognize the change in him. She couldn’t realize the man she’d fallen for was losing control.

“That can never happen.”

He had to get himself together—and fast.

Chapter Fourteen

Dissolution

Seth

Standing in the dark hallway, Seth traced a finger along the blade in his hand.

Strange how the evening’s playing out.Turning the knife in his right fingers, he pushed his device into his back pocket.When I’d set out for Brock Hall, this was not how I’d imagined things going.

But then, he hadn’t envisioned getting no answer, hadn’t foreseen the need to break in, and definitely hadn’t expected to hear his own mother screaming from one of the upstairs rooms.

He took a step toward the room Kyle had disappeared into, knowing instinctively that was where she was. Technically, he couldn’t knowfor sureit was her he’d heard from the entranceway, yet somehow, he did know.

Who else can it be?

Unease twisted in his gut as he pondered the question. Unless Kyle had a seriously dark side and kept various women captive across his huge fucking mansion, then it had to be her, didn’t it?

Glancing up and down the long corridor, the thought occurred that he could very well have anyone holed up in there. Not only was the residence enormous, but it was located in the middle of the countryside. There probably wasn’t another soul for miles who’d hear the screams.

“Be reasonable.” He mouthed the words, consoling himself.

Yes, he’d heard a scream, but that didn’t make the guy a tangible threat. Kyle had been carrying food with him when he’d passed Seth, and whatever it was had smelled good. No captor he’d ever brushed shoulders with in prison treated their victims that way.

So, if he’s not a danger, why do I have the knife?

Seth’s focus fell to the blade in his hand. He’d waited until Kyle had closed the door behind him and used his flashlight to locate the cutlery that had been dropped. What he hadn’t expected, though, was for the knife to be so lethal-looking. The knives people used to eat with normally were inoffensive-looking implements, whereas a brief examination under his flashlight had revealed a far more sinister blade.

That worried him, although there was no logical reason for the knife to inspire fear. Kyle had been carrying food and obviously intended to use the cutlery to eat, but something about his choice, coupled with the scream Seth had heard, knotted anxiety about what was actually going on in the room at the end of the hall.

That was why he still held onto the knife as he moved toward the target. It was why the trepidation simmering in his body heightened his every sense as he approached.

Somethingwas going on in there, and even though his mother’s sex life should have been the last thing he wanted to witness, he couldn’t shake the odd sense that he had to know more, had to know if she was all right.

Why would she scream?He straightened at the query.Why scream if everything is okay?

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