Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 133182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Either way, I’m screwed thanks to him.
“You’re very lucky that window didn’t break. If you would have made it outside and I had to chase you…”
Tossing his necktie on the chair, he starts to unbutton his shirt, revealing his throat then his chest.
His threat lingers in the air as I watch him disrobe. Watch him shed the suit of a civilized man into something more dangerous.
Something more primal.
I clear my throat, trying to get my thoughts in order as he reaches the waist of his trousers and yanks his shirt free.
I know I need to tread carefully here, he’s bigger, stronger, and crazier than me, but maybe I can talk some reason into him.
It’s worth a shot. It’s not like I have anything else to lose…
“You keep saying that,” I murmur, unable to tear my eyes away as he shrugs out of his shirt and tosses it on the chair.
“Oh?” He cocks a dark brow, intentionally or unintentionally flexing his chest muscles. “Saying what?”
I resist the urge to lick my lips nervously, knowing that will only draw unwanted attention to them. “Saying you’re keeping me safe.”
“Because I am,” he states firmly.
“Keeping me safe from what, James? You still haven’t explained what you’re keeping me safe from.”
He looks a little taken aback by the question then his eyes slide to the side as he bends over and removes his shoes and socks. “From every stupid motherfucker out there that would try to hurt you.”
Sensing my opportunity, I decide to go for it. Decide to lay the flaws in his logic out in the open.
“Who wants to hurt me? Nobody wants to hurt me, James. You’re the one who’s locked me up like a prisoner while I’m grieving. You practically kidnapped me from my father’s funeral.”
James kicks his shoes away and shakes his head in denial.
“There’s no one out there that wants to hurt me. The only person hurting me is you.”
James shakes his head again, a look of amused disbelief on his face. Like he knows something I don’t know.
Until I say, “You need to let me go.”
Straightening almost instantly, he starts to reach for me but pulls back as I flinch away.
Breathing deeply, he seems to struggle with himself. Struggle with some inner demon.
Fisting his hands at his side, his voice drops to a growl. “No.”
My eyes drop to his hands and the memory of him yanking his hand away when I tried to reach for him comes back to me.
The anger I still harbor over that emboldens me.
“No? Seriously? No? You told me yourself, I’m not safe with you.”
His features pinch with a look of pain. “That was then…”
“You were right. What’s changed now?”
James’s nostrils flare then he rips his gaze away from me and starts unbuckling his belt.
When he doesn’t answer the question, I repeat it. “What’s changed now, James?”
Ripping the belt angrily out of his trousers, he tosses it behind him, completely missing the chair.
My throat nearly choking on the words, I answer for him. “My father is dead.”
He neither confirms nor denies it. He simply pauses for a moment before he starts to unbutton his pants.
Taking a deep breath, all the muscles in my body tense, ready to spring and flee if needed. This is probably incredibly stupid of me, but now that I’m here, I have to say it. I have to.
If he did it, I can’t spend another second with him.
I’d rather fucking die than be stuck here with him.
“My father is dead and you probably killed him.”
James freezes, his pants half undone.
Then he jerks his attention to me, his eyes boring hard into mine. “Is that what you think?”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold my terror back.
I want to run, everything inside me screams to run, but now that I see his reaction, I’m afraid it might incite him.
Abandoning his zipper, he steps forward and grabs my face, ignoring my flinch this time.
His fingers wrap around my chin and force me to look up at him. “Is that what you think? You think I killed your father?”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, fighting off tears.
This entire situation is so fucked up I can no longer bear it.
“I told you, I know who you really are,” I say. “And after all of this…”
I have to stop to take a shuddering breath because it suddenly feels like the walls are closing in on me.
He’s too close. Too damn close. Taking up too much space inside and outside my head.
“What am I supposed to believe?” I ask.
Is this hand touching me a hand that killed my father?
My skin crawls and I try to pull away.
He yanks me right back.
Staring into my eyes as if he’s trying to read my soul, he says, “I didn’t kill your father.”
I want to believe him. Deep down, I want to believe he didn’t do it. That he truly wants to protect me.