Page 33 of Unhinged Cravings
The inhale I took was like the drag of a knife through my chest. “I kill people for a living, Ava.”
“You killed a man who killed Jill’s husband. Then took care of her like he would have wanted. I don’t see the bad in that.”
Rubbing my temples, I shook my head again. “You are something, Ava Shelton.”
“Why?” she asked with a crooked grin. “Don’t your sexy model women think the same way?”
I tilted my head, unsure if she was trying to goad me into something or if she was teasing me. “First, there’s barely any talking when I’m with them.” An uncomfortable fidgeting of her legs told me she didn’t like that answer. “Second, they’re not my women because I don’t have a woman. And third, what makes you think they’re any sexier than you?”
Her mouth parted, her eyes flitting up to meet mine.
“Or that you couldn’t be a model?”
She snorted this time. “That’s funny.” She picked at a rip in her jeans—the one big enough for me to see her knee and half her thigh. Hardly something I would have attributed Jill to buying, but they fit Ava’s personality.
“It’s not,” I muttered before finishing my drink. “Besides, just because you thought you knew my type, doesn’t mean everyonein my business has that same type.” I’d thought I did, but how wrong I was.
“I guess you’re right.” She pulled her knees back up to her chin. “You’re the third boss I’ve met in a matter of months. I didn’t know this world really existed except in my books and on screen. And here I am, captured by one. Kidnapped after attending the wedding of one—whose wife looks like a model, might I add. A wedding where her brother, another boss, walked her down the aisle and his girlfriend was her maid of honor. Talk about adorable. Casey is the definition of it and yeah, she’s curvy and cute. And don’t even get me started on Angie. Holy cow, she looks like she stepped out of one of those fashion magazines.”
She was rattling on about how beautiful these women were, and it bewildered me. As confident as she was, as sure of herself as she seemed, she didn’t see she was just as alluring. I had seen pictures of Tyson’s girl, Angela Donelli, but I didn’t know who Casey was. My intel lately had been lacking with my focus on other things. I had everything on the boss in the province north of mine, Donelli, including his daughter Angie. Ava was right. Angie was hot, but Ava was no less.
Dropping my glass on the table, I stood and stepped over to her. She was still going on about Tyson’s girl and how she had fit perfectly in her bridesmaid’s dress while Ava and Casey had to get theirs adjusted. Boring talk I couldn't care less about. Her words halted when I leaned over her chair, my face close to hers.
“Stop.”
She drew in a breath. Her eyes studied mine, the moonlight sparkling in them. I wanted to tell her she was the most alluring thing I’d seen, that no matter the women I’d had in the past, none compared to her because they didn’t come close. That I suspected I was falling for her because she was exactly what I’d never known I needed. To tell her I would trade every one-night stand I had ever had, every night of pleasure, for one hour of time with her, for one smile, one laugh, one word from her. But I didn’t. Ihovered there, so close, yet a distance remained because it had to. She was my prisoner and whatever this was couldn’t happen. “I never want to hear you compare yourself to another woman again or I’ll lock you in that basement.” A flash of fear had my eyes creasing. There was something about the basement that frightened her other than the purpose it served me. The reaction she’d had the night before was too extreme. Yet she kept her secrets, just as I kept mine.
I backed up and held my hand out to her. “Come on, it’s getting late.”
She looked at me for another moment before she placed her hand in mine. A slight gesture but one that spoke of the trust she had for me, trust she shouldn’t have had and that I would likely break.
Grabbing her shirt and book from the main room, I led her to my room, hating how normal this appeared and how I was looking forward to holding her. The medication she needed would be here in the morning and then she would be back in her room at night. It should have been a reassuring thought, but it wasn’t. Instead, it left a strange ache in my chest. One I avoided acknowledging for fear of having to admit what it meant.
Chapter Thirteen
AVA
Stretching my limbs in a long cat stretch, I glanced over at the empty side of the bed. The bed in my room, not Emerson’s. He had moved me again. It was almost like he could justify having me in his bed for only so long. Like waking up next to me would cross some line. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and yawned. Memories of my nightmares sat on the cusp of my awareness, but I shoved them away, thinking instead of how his hold on me had brought me out of the darkness again.
The covers disturbed a note at the end of the bed, and I crawled over to it.
Get dressed and meet me on the deck. Wear shorts.
Commanding and just like Emerson. I traced the neat letters that formed the words. Elegant and formal, not like my chicken scratch.
After a quick shower, I pulled out a pair of jean shorts with frayed edges and a blue tank top, followed by a tan flannel shirt. Rolling the sleeves up, I decided to forgo shoes. My hair was still wet, and I hadn’t worn makeup for days. Why bother with shoes?
At the door, I lifted my hand to knock and let Breaker know I wanted to come out. It was ridiculous to pretend all this wasnormal when the door to my room locked me in. A reminder that even if my captor infatuated me, I was still his hostage. Confusing didn’t even begin to describe the situation. I scratched my nose instead of knocking, thinking again of that syndrome I had read about where the captive falls for her captor. Was that all this was?
Nothing more than some psychological condition that was making Emerson attractive to me?
My laugh was audible. There was no making Emerson attractive. The man was hot. Even thinking about him had my legs clenching. And I wasn’t delusional. I knew who he was and what he did. Shit, he’d killed two men the night he’d kidnapped me. I wasn’t fooling myself into believing he was a good guy, although I had discovered there were pieces of him that were good.
With an exaggerated exhale, I knocked on the door, hearing Breaker’s heavy steps followed by the clicking of the locks. He opened the door, his eyes scanning my body before he gave me a goofy smile.
“Damn, you’re pale. Like some kind of vampire.”
“Screw you,” I said, shoving by him.
