Kat has done nothing but plague me for weeks, managing to burrow under my skin without realizing it. She has proven herself to be potentially one of the hardest challenges I’ve ever faced, but that only makes it more exciting.
She can scream, threaten me, and break whatever she feels like, but she isn’t going anywhere either. She has given me a strange and twisted purpose, but a purpose nonetheless.
If I have to deal with a few glares and slammed doors in the meantime, then so be it. I can play the long game if it means getting what I want.
Legally, I already have her. But emotionally and physically, that will take time to fall into place.
As determined as I am, after three days in, I can feel the edges starting to fray.
Not because of Kat’s fury or any doubt on my end. No. It’s her damn phone.
The one that keeps ringing like someone’s house is burning down. It isn’t spam or anything from Yuri, which I’ve been keeping my eye out for, hoping I might catch him in theperfect opportunity. That’s the only reason I haven’t powered the thing down and stashed it in a drawer somewhere.
Instead, it’s fucking Roland.
Her business partner. The far too friendly one. The one who looks at her like he knows just how to protect her with his quiet determination and wisdom.
Sure, he never gave me any reason to believe he had a thing for Kat, but the thought of them being so intertwined in each other’s lives pissed me off. It still does.
And now, while I’m trying to prevent her from making contact with anyone who might stand a chance at coming between us, I have to deal with this godforsaken phone.
His name has flashed across the screen several times in the last half an hour. He doesn’t text, but instead tries to leave his persistent and likely concerned calls and several voicemails. It makes me tempted to crack the phone in half and be done with it. But I know that would only be cause for more concern on his end.
I try to hold out. To ignore the persistent ringing, followed by the vibrations when I flick the sound off. But something beyond the constant noise is driving me crazy. Knowing he is this worried pisses me off.
Pacing outside her door, feeling the intermittent buzzing against my palm, I pull in an agitated breath before knocking on her bedroom door and pushing my way inside.
Kat doesn’t even look up when I find her sitting on the small love seat by the window with her legs folded under her and arms crossed. The breakfast I had sent up to her sits untouched on a nearby side table, and surely her eggs are long cold.
It annoys me, but I keep my tone dry rather than nagging. “Still maintaining that valiant hunger strike thing?”
Her eyes flick over to me. “Still doing the kidnapping thing?”
Fair enough.
I almost chuckle at her remark, but the phone buzzes in my hand again, pulling me back to the reason I’m even in the room. I huff to myself and hold the phone between two fingers.
“Your friend is persistent.”
Something akin to concern moves through her gaze. I guess it’s a mutual thing between them. She takes a deep breath. “I told you earlier. Roland is worried, and he’ll continue to be.”
I scoff. “He’s annoying.”
“He’s loyal. He’s also my friend and business partner…of course, he’d be worried. You should’ve expected that.”
Sure, I should have. But part of me was hoping he’d just give up after the first few calls and assume Kat had moved on to a different life.
But after everything she was trying to avoid before, why would she change her mind now? Why would she leave it behind?
A lack of foresight? Maybe. But it doesn’t matter.
“You don’t need loyalty from another man when I’m handling your safety just fine,” I utter, well aware of how possessive it sounds, mostly to a fault. But in truth, I forced her to marry me. That shouldn’t be too surprising.
“And how are you handling it?” Kat throws back at me, skipping over that part, thankfully. “You’ve been keeping me locked up in this room. I don’t think this should be a difficultconcept, but you are the thing someone like Roland would want to protect me from.”
My blood boils at the thought.
I hate the insinuation, and I hate that she’s right.
