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He falls quiet, nothing but the aggressive pant of his breaths falling between us.
“There’s more to this, Cole. And I need to know what it is. I have to know why I’m really here.”
“I’ve already told you,” he seethes.
“No.” I add steel to my tone. He’s lying. Always lying. God, it drives me insane. “You haven’t told me anything. Having me here as a witness isn’t smart. And you’re a smart man. There has to be another reason.”
His jaw clenches, his movements becoming hostile, combative and unrhythmic.
“Tell me why the hell I’m here.” I raise my voice. “Tell me.”
He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even acknowledge my demand.
Fucking hell. I’m going to lose my shit.
My temples throb. My chest pounds. Adrenaline floods my system, and I move so far beyond frustration I have to clench my hands at my sides to fight a scream.
“It’s time for you to get out of here,” he mutters. “We can talk later.”
“No.” Goddammit. I can’t be kept from the information a moment longer. I refuse to bend to his will.
He’s fucked me over, time and time again.
He’s taunted me. Threatened my career. Spat in the face of my privacy. Disregarded my safety.
Enough is enough.
I lunge forward, hiking my leg over the bench to straddle his waist and claim the weighted bar. I press down hard, his dark blue eyes meeting mine as I threaten to crush the life from him. “Tell me.”
His gaze narrows to tiny slits. His lip curls in a vicious snarl.
I don’t know what I’m doing other than living by impulse. I climbed aboard him without a strategy or common sense. I’m not even sure of my aim.
I want answers. I want freedom. And apparently, autopilot is pushing me toward murder in an attempt to achieve both.
If I go ahead with this, it won’t be a quick death. Or a quiet one. His face will turn red. He’ll gasp and splutter.
Fuck. What the hell am I doing?
Even if I could stomach killing this man, I’d then have to deal with Luca. And find a way off this island.
What I’ve instigated is completely irrational.
Entire lunacy.
I’m about to raise a white flag and retreat when he quits fighting. His arms drop. He lets go of the bar, leaving me to struggle with the heavy load.
My injured shoulder screams in protest, the pain slicing down my muscles. “What are you doing?” My voice trembles as I lose strength, the bar lowering with my struggle, the agony increasing. I can’t hold on.
“Don’t stop now.” He stares up at me, his face an emotionless mask. “You want me dead? Then kill me. This is the perfect opportunity. My arms are fatigued. I can’t fight back.”
I shuffle my feet, trying to stabilize myself as I straddle him. I throw all my strength into the lift and cry out when my shoulder screams with another painful revolt. “Cole, I can’t carry this much longer. My arm…”
He doesn’t offer assistance.
“Cole. Please.” The agony shooting down my bicep is excruciating. Red-hot and blinding. “I didn’t mean—”
I didn’t mean what? To threaten him? To attempt murder?
He’ll punish me. He’ll use this as an excuse to retaliate.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck have I done?
The bar continues to lower as I succumb to the pain. My curled fingers brush his hard chest, the bar pressing into him. Soon, I’ll lose all my strength. The bar will roll. The weight will suffocate him.
A million thoughts run through my head, each and every one of them revolving around this man’s death and how I’d give anything for it not to happen.
I fight harder and still I fail.
“Luca,” I scream. “Help.”
Cole’s eyes harden.
In a flash, he raises his arms, shoving at the bar, the heavy weight lifting like a feather to clang into the cradle. I jerk back, yet again surprised by another form of his manipulation as he snaps upright. I slither down his body with a hollow sense of shame and come to sit in his lap, face-to-face, chest-to-chest.
“Pure stupidity,” he seethes, his hatred engulfing me. “I’ve abducted you, drugged and tied you, yet you can’t even come close to finishing me off. That’s disappointing, little fox. Where’s your self-preservation?”
My heart trembles behind tightening ribs.
I’m lost.
In those eyes.
In his vehemence.
In complete and utter confusion.
I still see his vulnerability. It’s there. Right there. Beaming back at me with furrowed brows.
“Want to know why you couldn’t follow through?” His voice loses the bitter edge and gains a taint of condescension. “It’s because you know I won’t hurt you. There’s no fear because I’m no threat.”
He’s right.
I don’t fear him. Not physically.
Not even when I’m held down on his lap, his ferocity staring back at me.
“You know I’m right,” he growls. “You can claim to be a victim all you like, but you’re here willingly.”
I shake my head, sickened by his logic. “You have hurt me. Look at my wrists. And there’s a track mark on my side, too. I don’t even know if you used a sterile needle.”
Something flashes behind those eyes. Regret? Disappointment?
I wait for an apology. I even hope for a viable explanation for his actions when the door swings open and Luca rushes in.
His eyes turn judgmental at the sight before him. “What’s—”
“Get out,” Cole yells. “Now.”
Luca complies in a heartbeat, leaving us alone, with me straddling the lap of a man who looks back at me as if I’m a disappointment.
I swallow, trying to fight the complete detox of moisture from my tongue, and lick my lower lip. The dryness only increases as Cole watches the action, his attention focused on my mouth.
The thump, thump, thump of my heart is a constant reminder I’m alive, but I’m entirely numb. Completely devoid of a suitable reaction to the rainbow of insanity tearing my insides apart.
There’s anger and hostility. Frustration and exhaustion.
And something else, too. Something that builds the longer he looks at me this way.
Something I don’t even want to define.
“You’ve never been scared of me.” His hand raises from my waist, the touch trailing to my neck, his fingers wrapping around my throat. “Not even when I set out to claim your fear.”
I tremble, the quake building in intensity.
There’s no pain from his hold. It’s light—so light it almost seems to be made with pleasurable intent.
My pulse pounds wildly beneath his palm, my rampant heartbeat increasing to the point it’s deafening. I can’t stop my quickening breaths, the short, shallow pants rasping from my lips.
I don’t like this feeling. It’s u
Something is wrong with me.
He’s threatening my life, his strength capable of crushing my windpipe, and I’m not trembling because of fear.
I’m… God, I don’t know what I am, but it definitely isn’t scared.
Maybe it’s shame. Or a different taste of humiliation.
“You want to know why you’re here?” he murmurs. “You want to know why you were my first and only choice to bear witness?”
I swallow again. I can’t gain any moisture to speak. I can only nod in subtle acknowledgement.
His gaze holds mine, his stare sinking deep into my heart. Then the calm stops in an abrupt blink. His face hardens; his upper lip curls.
Finally, a tingle of caution niggles its way from the bottom of my spine, the awareness increasing the higher it climbs.