Page 15 of Unhinged Cravings
AVA
Wringing my hands, I paced the room and avoided looking at the bed. Emerson had held me through my nightmares. The most feared mob boss in all the provinces. A man who probably killed puppies and most definitely killed people with the same hands that had been wrapped around me when I woke. I rubbed the space between my eyes, trying to convince myself that I’d disliked waking up to that. To hate how safe and warm I’d been. How hard and large he’d been.
“Stop it, Ava,” I muttered, making another trail across the room. “He’s a killer who abuses women.”
But he had done nothing to me to substantiate that claim. Hadn’t laid a finger on me except…well, except his hand around my neck and the gun to my head.
Exactly, my know-it-all side huffed.
He had held me all night, though. And I couldn’t get that thought from my head unless I considered the reason for his actions. My nightmares. I needed my meds and soon or every night would be the same. I stopped my pacing, tilting my head as I considered how I didn’t dislike the idea of waking that way again.
Smacking myself on the forehead, I grumbled at my baddecision making and went back to pacing. The door opened, and I jumped, grabbing my chest.
“Do you people ever knock?” I asked my guard whose name was Breaker. I’d made the mistake of asking about the name, only to regret it when he told me he enjoyed the sound of bones breaking.
“No.”
Putting my hands on my hips, I asked, “What if I was changing?”
“Then I’d get a show and see what those tits look like without the shirt in the way,” he responded with a shrug.
Gaping at him, I crossed my arms to cover my chest. Maybe I should have tried squeezing into one of the smaller bras. Spilling over the edge might have been a better choice.
“You’re gross,” I groused.
“Never said I wasn’t. The boss wants to see you.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the excited butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies? Since when did I get those, and why would they swarm over the man who had kidnapped me? Ugh, I hated my confusing body sometimes.
My guard grabbed my elbow and pulled me down the hall and through the large living room, out onto the patio.
“You don’t need to pull her arm out of socket, Breaker.”
If those butterflies had annoyed me earlier, they had me eager to reach into my gut and pulverize them now. Emerson looked too hot for someone I should hate. He wore a black button-down shirt with the top buttons open to show his tan chest and tattoos. His sleeves rolled partway up his forearms, exposed more tattoos and muscles that had me salivating. The shirt rested against even more muscle, and I didn’t even want to gaze down at his pants, especially after last night.
I caught my uncouth gaping in the reflection of his sunglasses and quickly closed my mouth. With a firm yank of my arm that sent me stumbling slightly, I gaveBreaker a nasty look.
“That’s cute, Ava,” Emerson said as Breaker laughed and walked away. “I think you frightened him with all that angst.”
He didn’t have to remove the glasses for me to sense his eyes graze over my body. It was like hands sliding down my skin and I moved my arm awkwardly to cover my breasts, knowing my nipples had beckoned to the call of that heated gaze.
“You wanted to see me?” I asked, staying in place.
Removing the sunglasses didn’t help my cause. His eyes were bright blue in the morning sun. I could have stood there all day drinking them in.
“Come sit down. We need to talk.”
Shit, no, we didn’t. “I’m good,” I said—a complete lie—pivoting to walk away.
“Ava.” That was not the voice of the man who had comforted me. That was the voice of a lethal killer. The one I kept warning myself was behind the tempting exterior. “Sit.”
My muscles tensed, and I debated my choices. I didn’t like being told what to do, but one glance at him let me know I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“I told you I don’t like commands,” I complained, taking a seat and thumping into it. “You want to talk, then talk.”
He slid a plate over to me and a glass of orange juice. Scrambled eggs and toast with jam.
“Do you eat anything but toast and eggs?” I asked, not moving.
