Page 26 of Reaper

“I can’t confide in you, if I have to fear you killing people, Nico.”

Holding my hands up, I say, “I won’t kill her.”

It’s a lie, but she relaxes. If I end her mother’s life, I’ll have to be more creative, and make it look like an accident.

Grabbing the vegetables, I pour them into the pan with the meat, and cook them.

She stands beside me, glancing at the food with excitement.

“That smells really good. I’m starving.”

I grin and don’t say anything, but I always work up an appetite with killing. I wonder if she’ll be the same. Bella probably thinks tonight was a one-time thing, and that she won’t kill another person. She’s wrong. I saw her while she choked the life out of that fucker, and I felt how wet she was. Bella doesn’t want to get aroused from taking a life, but she did. Eventually, she’s going to need to face it, because the urge will not go away.

I grab the plate of food, and she follows me out to the dining room. Turning to her, I chuckle as I watch her glance around the room. She stares at the coat of arms for our family name hanging on the wall, before she takes a seat at the table. It’s a large glass table with a gunmetal gray border around it. She runs her fingers around the smooth finish, as if she’s inspecting it, before she takes her seat.

Setting the plate in the middle of the table, I narrow my gaze at her.

“If I go get us drinks, are you going to do anything stupid?”

She shakes her head no.

Sighing audibly, I say, “I don’t want to treat you like a child.”

Rolling her eyes at me, she complains.

“No, you want to treat me like a prisoner.”

I run a hand through my hair and order her to stay put. It’s not that I want to treat her as a prisoner. There never would’ve beenshackles on her wrists had I not deemed it necessary. I will keep her, whether she likes it or not. However, I’d prefer her to like it or at least accept it.

I walk back into the dining room with two glasses, as well as a bottle of wine, and I’m relieved to find her sitting there like I told her to.

She tilts her head, with a sassy smirk on her beautiful lips.

“See. Still here, Nico. I should get a reward.”

I chuckle as I pour us both a glass of red wine.

“And what kind of reward do you think you deserve for simply staying put?”

After I sit across from her, I take a sip of wine while I wait for her to answer my question.

She stares at me sweetly, but I can see she’s nervous. She grabs her fingers with her other hand, pulling like she’s afraid to tell me what she wants.

“Umm-”

Reaching across the table, I take her hand, and rub her trembling fingers.

“You can tell me what you want, baby. There’s no guarantee you’ll get it, but I’m not going to hurt you for saying what you want.”

She glances down at the table and takes a deep breath.

“I’d like these shackles to be removed.”

Shaking my head no, I say, “Sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”

I can’t explain why, because I don’t think she’d react well to being tracked, but I’m unwilling to risk her getting away, when I might not be able to find her.

She makes herself a fajita while I do the same, and we begin to eat. I know she’s upset, because she hasn’t looked at me once since I refused her request.

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