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Not a fucking soul.
Not until I’m ready.
My palm itches, needing to feel her pulse quicken beneath my touch. I hunger to cause more fear. Instigate more panic. Instead, she leans into my hand and briefly closes her eyes, pretending to gain comfort from the co
Co
She’s brilliant in her betrayal. Mesmerizing.
I keep my hand in place, lazily tracing silent threats into her skin while she pretends to enjoy the affection.
It’s a romantic picture from the outside. A curious state of normal I would’ve liked to explore if this wasn’t the fucking Twilight Zone.
But it is.
All of this is fake—the vulnerability, the friendship, the beauty.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, breaking the stable silence.
Out of all the questions she could’ve asked, this one fills me with the most anger. She should be curious about the imaginary men following us. Or how I plan to keep her safe. Or when she’s going to see her family again.
Instead, she pretends to care about me. Me. The man she’s slowly leading to execution.
“I’m tough.” I shoot her a wink and place both hands back on the wheel. “It takes a hell of a lot more to get me six feet under.”
“Your face is pretty beat up. You’re bruised everywhere—your jaw, your cheek, your bottom lip.”
I keep smiling through her nauseating charade of pity. Keep pretending, just like she does. There’s a beat of silence, an awkward, fractured beat that thickens the air between us.
“Sebastian, I need to tell you something.”
My lungs tighten, my ribs restricting my breathing. “I’m all ears.”
The quiet returns, the moments passing with building anticipation.
I glance her way, seeing her brow furrowed as her teeth dig into her lower lip. “What is it?”
She sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly. “I lied to you.”
“Oh, yeah?” My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
She nods. “This morning…When I said I didn’t care about you being with that woman.”
For fuck’s sake. This shit is already getting old.
“I do care, Sebastian. The jealousy is eating me up.”
I focus on the road, my knuckles turning white with my harsh grip.
Not only is she saying my name in that sickly sincere tone, she’s playing the endearing card on top of the stacked deck of deceit.
Fuck her.
Fuck those soft eyes that seem to blink with genuine honesty. And the tempting lips making her lies easy to believe. She was born to fool me.
“I told you, she means nothing.”
“I know.” Her voice fractures. “And I believe you. I guess I just wanted you to know I wasn’t unaffected by her. She made me realize how much I’ve enjoyed this time with you, despite the reasons behind being stuck together.”
I grin. At her. At the lies. At the fucking absurdity of this entire situation. “I’ve enjoyed it, too.”
I’ll enjoy it even more once she knows the truth.
I turn my focus her way, needing to shoot her a smug glance she will hopefully look back on later. But I regret the glimpse immediately.
She’s staring at me, her body turned my way, her cheek pressed against the head rest. That gorgeous mouth of hers is kicked at one side, her eyes gentle.
I don’t understand how she can be so undeniably beautiful and entirely monstrous at the same time. The body of a goddess with the strategic mind of the devil.
“You should get some rest.” I press my foot harder on the accelerator. “It’s going to be another long day.”
“I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. I’ve got too many questions.”
I bet she does.
The more answers she has, the better she can control me.
“Now isn’t the time. My head is killing me.” Not a lie. My brain is seriously fucking with my vision. My bottom lip is swollen and throbbing. And my ribs protest with every inhale.
“I understand. But I need to know, Sebastian. Once you’ve had time to decompress and think things through, I want you to tell me everything that happened while you were gone. It’s important.”
I nod. “We can talk tonight.” We’ll talk about everything. Every fucking thing she’s been hiding from me. “For now, just let me concentrate on getting us somewhere safe.”
Hours go by with nothing but the sound of asphalt beneath the tires and the crinkle of junk food wrappers as we decimate the stash of snacks I purchased at the gas station.
The further I drive, the less I see. There hasn’t been a house in miles, or a street sign, for that matter, which means I’m headed in the right direction. The eerie desolation is familiar.
“I think I’m going to have to ask you to pull over again.” Keira stretches her arms above her head. “My bladder is begi
“We’re almost there. Can you wait ten minutes? Maybe twenty?”
She sits up straight. “There’s a town nearby? I haven’t seen any sign of life for half an hour.”
“There’s a house up ahead. That’s where we’re staying.”
She leans closer to her window, sca
“I don’t usually do anything aimlessly. And if memory serves, the house should come into view once we get over this hill.”
As predicted, my brother’s home appears as a small speck toward the horizon. It’s all alone. A solitary building in the middle of nowhere. A hermit’s dream. A kidnapped victim’s nightmare.
Twenty minutes later, I turn onto the long dirt drive, a trail of dust billowing in our wake as we approach the place I chose to have our showdown.
There’s no sign of life. No cars. No crops. No cattle. Not a glimmer of help in sight. Just a house and more than enough room for a scream to die on the wind.
She inches forward in her seat. “How do you know about this place?”
“From an online rental site. I’ve stayed here once before.” I drive into the house yard, the smaller block fenced off from the mass of vacant land. A pebbled path leads to the front door, but I steer onto the grass and park by the side of the garage to hide the car from the road.
“It looks nice.” She unfastens her belt and opens her door. “What are we going to do about food? And both of us are back to having no clothes.”
“Don’t worry. The host told me the fridge would be stocked. And I’m not seeing the lack of clothing as a bad thing.” I wink at her and slide from the car, my bruised muscles aching in protest.
I’m not looking forward to checking my injuries, but my heart pounds in anticipation as the seconds tick down to the moment when I get to tell Keira she’s far from safe with me.
I can’t fucking wait to wipe that saccharine smile from her face. For those eyes to blink at me in fear instead of sweet manipulation.
“Is the front door unlocked?” She starts walking for the house, probably trying to reiterate the story about needing to use the bathroom, when I’d bet my life she wants to hunt for a phone.
“The key should be under the mat.”
She increases her pace, disappearing inside while I open the trunk and take inventory. There’s a laptop case, a new phone, and a gray duffle bag—Hunter’s trusty tool kit.
I leave the computer and phone, not wanting Keira to know she has a way of communicating with the outside world, and lug the bag.
I don’t see her again for ten minutes. I hear the flush of the toilet as I enter the kitchen and dump my supplies on the counter. Then her footfalls trek through the rooms, the pace frantic.
“Did the rental listing mention a landline?” she calls out. “I can’t find one anywhere.”