Page 49 of No, You Hang Up

He drifts to a stop at a red light, then turns that predatory grin on me, and all of his overwhelming focus follows.

“I’m going to make you regret being so fucking addicting.”

twenty-two

Adistant, almost rational part of me is a little disappointed he didn’t kidnap me back to his place. I almostwanthim to, honestly. I want to see how and where he lives. And if he’s as meticulous as I imagine him being.

But when he closes my front door behind him and backs me against the wall, I don’t miss the curiosity in his face, or the hesitation there. “I want to ask you something, since you made a point about me leaving you,” he drawls, his fingers stroking along my jaw.

“What?”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me like you should be?” Hux grins almost sweetly, then adds, “Because I think there might be something really wrong with you, Kai.”

The water really helped, and I feel a lot more clear headed than I did in the truck, and certainly better than I had at the club. But I still reach down and check my phone, making sure I read the message from Em correctly, saying they’d be fine.

Go have fun. We’ll call an Uber if we need to, but I won’t drink any more. Call if you need us!

Just as I read it for the second time, Huxley plucks my phone out of my hand and it disappears somewhere on his person. I should protest, I think ruefully. I should demand it back so I at least know where it is, then let him keep it.

But I don’t. Instead, I lean back against the wall beside the door and gaze up at him with wide eyes while I focus on the feeling of the wall behind me and him in front of me.

“It’s rude of you to say something like that to my face. Especially since you want to fuck me.” I sigh, head tilting to one side as he leans in on his forearm so we’re only inches apart.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty rude most of the time. It’s part of the charm. And I’m curious. I’ve answered everything that you’ve asked about me. I’ve told you I’m apparently too weak to forget you exist, little bunny.” His lips brush mine, and I realize with a jolt he’s right.

He’s kept nothing from me—unless he’s lying—yet he barely knows anything about me. It feels unfair and one-sided, and the stab of guilt that goes through me isn’t so easily pushed away.

“Okay,” I sigh, trying not to get get distracted by his lips or the fanning of his breath on my face. “What are you curious about?”

“You. Tell me something,” he invites. “Tell me anything at all. Tell me something that’s better than surface level, little bunny.”

I stare at him, contemplating, for more than a few seconds. I stare at him long enough that I see the uncertainty on his face, and the way he’s almost, maybe, regretting asking. Like he thinks I’ll push him away or shut down just because he wants to know something real.

Finally I press my lips together, fidgeting a little as my hands pluck at his shirt. “Okay,” I repeat, needing to give myself just a few extra seconds before I commit to something I can’t take back. “I can tell you something. Just as long as you won’t tell anyone else. It’s pretty heavy, since I doubt you care what my favorite color is.”

“I absolutely care. Is it black?” He looks down at my clothes, then back up at my face expectantly, but I shake my head.

“That’s my favorite clothing color, but that’s not my favorite color. Electric green is my favorite color.”

“Huh.” He blinks, drawing back a little bit like that’s definitely not what he’d expected. “Interesting. Okay, I’ll remember. Go on? You were going to tell me something that I’ll find really interesting, right?”

“Right,” I breathe. But I worry that I’m losing my nerve, so I take a sharp inhale and say, quickly, “I don’t have any family here. All of them are in Pensacola, Florida. They’re also, for the most part, blocked. Because I can’t deal with them. Right before I called you, I was down there for my uncle’s funeral. And it was one of the worst things I’ve ever had to do.”

His smile fades as he watches me, and his thumb strokes sweetly over my wrist, almost like he’s trying to console or encourage me. “Because he was like a father figure to you?” Huxley assumes. “Because?—”

“Because when I was nine and a half, my uncle was babysitting me. He was drunk, I was crying. He hurt me.” I blink as the words fall from my lips, trying to imagine that I’m anywhere else, or talking about anyoneelse. Like this hadn’t happened to me. “He hurt me to ‘discipline’ me by holding my arm over an open flame. Later, after I told everyone, my family decided I was the one in the wrong. But I would never agree to change my story. Then he died.”

Huxley is so still that he seems like a marble statue.

“He died, and like a good little niece, I went down to Florida for his funeral. But since I wouldn’t change my story and repent, or whatever, my family were disappointed as hell.” I tilt my head to one side, then the other, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “My parents sucked too, but that would take all night, so?—”

He kisses me hard and fast. His hands find my elbows, and Huxley grips me to him. “Oh, pretty girl,” he purrs sweetly, possessively. “Darling, perfect Kai. You really are something, you know that? All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll make them so sorry for how they make you feel. I’d kill them for you.” He licks over my lower lip, before nipping.

“I’d make themhurtfor you. Over and over, until you were satisfied and they would never doubt you again, even in hell.” My stomach twists hard, and I swear I almost go to my knees on my floor. But he holds me up, and I grab onto his elbows to steady myself. “I’d make themburnjust for you. Until they knew that you’d never lied, and they were so wrong for doubting you.”

“Would you have killed him for me?” I can’t help but ask, though I’m sure he doesn’t need a reason to murder.

“No.” My stomach twists at the answer, and I open my mouth, but he speaks again before I can ask why or be more than slightly surprised. “No, I’d tear him apart and destroy him for you. Killing him is too easy. Too quick. I’d flay him out of his skin and tie it all up with his entrails while he’s still breathing and his heart still beats.”

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