Page 14 of Carnal Urges
“Helpyou?” He laughs. “I thought you said you’d spent time with men in my line of work?”
Feeling defensive, I say, “They didn’t raise me from birth. I’ve just dated a few. Okay, one. But yes, I did spend plenty of time with him, and with his buddies, and also some with my girlfriend’s man, so I know the rules.”
His blue eyes glitter in the dim light. “We’re at war, lass. There are no rules. Especially when it comes to the woman who started the whole bloody mess in the first place. If they returned you to New York barely breathing, your Russian boss friend would consider it a solid.”
His tone drops. “No matter how many times you were raped and beaten along the way.”
I know he’s serious, but this is also the man who threatened to rip off my skirt, spank my ass, and let his crew do the same to me—or worse—then turned around and handed me a gun. I’m not so sure his judgement can be trusted.
Besides, Nat would kill Kage if the men he sent to rescue me harmed me instead. He’d be castrated in ten seconds, which I’m sure he knows.
Onward.
“You keep blaming me for starting a war. Why?”
“Because you did.”
“I think I would’ve remembered that.”
“You don’t remember jumping from the car or punching Kieran.”
“I see. So I started this mafia war while under the influence of the drugs you gave me?”
He doesn’t like my tone, which drips sarcasm. I can tell he’s wishing he never took his tie off my mouth.
“I don’t have the time or patience to paint a fucking picture for you.”
“Calm down. You don’t have to curse at me.”
His blistering glare could peel paint from a wall. “I think you’re lying about not having boyfriends. I think you’ve had plenty, and they all committed suicide.”
“And I think it’s scary that people like you are allowed to vote. You never answered my other questions.”
“I’m too busy planning where I’m going to bury your body.”
He’s grinding his molars again. I’m really bad for his dental health. Pity, because those teeth of his are awfully nice.
“Did you have braces when you were young?”
“What the…? Never mind. Jesus. Get down on the floor. If the car stops and I get out, stay inside. And for the love of all that’s holy,be quiet.”
He shoves me down onto the floor and holds me there with his hand wrapped firmly around the back of my neck. I look up at him, marveling that he actually thinks I’m going to obey a single one of those instructions.
How are men in charge of running everything? They’re clueless.
“Hey. Gangster.”
He closes his eyes, makes a growling noise, and tightens his hand on my neck.
“Oh, relax. I just wanted to ask if you think Reverse Stockholm syndrome is already a thing, or if you’re about to invent it?”
“How many times did your parents beg you to run away from home?”
Good one. He’s really getting the hang of this.“After the first few dozen, they got used to the idea that I don’t respond well to demands.”
When he opens his eyes to glare down at me, I smile. “Oh, come on. You’re just mad because you’re usually the one poking the bear.”
He pauses his glaring to be surprised. “How did you know that?”
