Page 47 of Cruel Pawn
“I thought I’d be gone much longer, but it was unbearable being away from you. Plus, I got a little carried away. I had some anger to work out.”
Curiosity made me sit straighter as he headed across the room to where he’d dumped the black holdall. “So, you admit you were in a shit mood before you left.”
Arden sighed, his shoulders dropping as he glanced back at me. “Was I really awful?”
“You were a moody bitch, and it was… weird. But you weren’treallyawful.” Why was I placating my kidnapper?
Because you like him,an annoying inner voice quipped. I ignored it, even if it was right.
“Weird,” he repeated, tilting his head to watch me.
“Because you’re normally more…” I waved my hands. “Irritating. Then suddenly all your loudness and excitement were gone and—”
“Oh, Priya,” he sighed, his eyes big and glittery. “You missed me before I even left the cottage.”
“I did not,” I snarled, getting to my feet, my arms crossed over my chest. I didn’t miss him. I likedsomeparts of Arden, like him disposing of a body for me and not blinking at my violent tendencies, but it’s not as if I liked the OTT, irritating golden retriever. If anything, the cold, unfeeling man was better suited to me. “It was an improvement.”
Arden just smirked, like he didn’t believe me, and unzipped the bag. Reaching inside, he—pulled out a severed head.
I jerked forward in shock, though I really ought to be running the other way. “Arden, what the fuck?”
He wiggled the head at me, and thankfully it didn’t leak blood all over the floor. But it was a very dead grey colour, with dull brown hair and a slack, rictus scream. “Look familiar?”
“No,” I laughed in disbelief, but then frowned. Why would he ask that? I came closer as he held the head up for my perusal, and the second the features connected in my mind, my stomach revolted. “Is that…”
“Oliver Dobrow. He suffered, my opera, I promise you that. I wanted to make his torment last for days, but I can be satisfied that he was in excruciating pain the entire time. You should see what I did to the rest of him.”
“Yes,” I blurted, my breathing starting to race, a shuddery feeling crawling across my shoulder blades and down my arms. I shivered hard, staring at the head of the bastard who would have raped me. Grandfather would have let it happen, didn’t particularly care about my trauma and how it affected me for months, but a single nightmare and Arden had donethis.
My heart skipped and dropped, and kept falling, falling. I fell so far down that I didn’t think I would ever claw my way back up. But if falling involved Arden bringing me the heads of men who had tormented my memories for years, I wouldn’t eventryto get up. I’d embrace the fall. And that made my breath as short, my skin as cold, my head as dizzy as any fight for my life.
Actually, I’d rather fight for my life than feelthis.Because there was so much emotion that my chest hurt, and there wasn’t the physical space for it to fit inside me.
“Say something,” Arden murmured, watching every feeling track across my face.
I swallowed. “Get on the bed, Arden.”
“Where should I put the head, my opera? Here, where you can see? Or should I spike it on the gates as a warning that there are consequences for harming Priya McFadyen?”
I didn’t even correct the name. My breathing came faster, my heart a gallop against my ribs. “Gates,” I replied, not recognising the low, rasping voice that came from my throat. “I don’t want him to watch us.”
Arden’s response could only be categorised as a growl. My mouth went dry at the way he stared at me, like he would devour me whole until there was nothing left which he hadn’t consumed.
Then heranout the door, taking the head with him. A laugh expelled itself from my chest, pleasant warmth taking its place, clashing with the all-consuming inferno that blazed across my skin, burning my nipples into demanding points under my shirt, making my pussy slick with need.
I fixed my eyes on the door, and the second Arden reappeared I rushed at him, driving my feet into the floor to launch myself up.
He caught me with a groan, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, bruising his lips with a rough kiss, the force and brutality of it the same as any fight. My stomach flipped at the deep, animalistic sound that left my captor when he ripped his mouth from mine. The chains rattled, but for the first time I couldn’t give a shit about them.
“My opera,” he said like a declaration, walking towards the bed. “My Priya. My pretty poison.”
And because I was feeling possessive of him, I sank my fingers into his hair and dragged him back to my lips, hissing against his mouth, “My captor.”
He moaned like I’d confessed my love for him and met my demanding kiss with a fervent need of his own, his hands trembling where they braced the backs of my thighs. Air rippled over me as he walked me backwards; goosebumps danced across my skin at the vulnerability. He could take me anywhere, do anything. Why did I like that?
When my back hit the soft covers on the bed, I yanked hard on Arden’s hair. “Don’t be gentle.”
The sheer glee that lit his dark eyes made me a little nervous. So did the chain he yanked out from under his tight black T-shirt, and the way he never looked away from me splayed on the bed beneath him even as he unclipped the key from it.
