They took her tonight.
My inside guy said he helped to run interference when she escaped. Said he tied her ropes looser than he normally would have, but it wouldn’t have mattered with Blake. She would’ve gotten out of them. She was a fighter and a survivor. It’s what she did, so yes, she would’ve been fine no matter how tight he made them. But he helped stall West and Walden from finding her.
I failed her. I hadn’t stopped them from taking her, and I hadn’t gotten there in time.
Blake never needed me, not for her physical safety. It was just my pleasure.
She saved herself. Over and over again. I just wished she’d realize that she didn’t need to. She could do anything. She could be anyone. She could get anyone to love her. I just hoped she never did, because if she truly decided to leave me ... I didn’t think the world would survive my desolation. Except tonight, she came to me.
To. Me.
My inside man sent me the video of her climbing down the side of Walden’s building. She was truly magnificent.
She told me to stay away, but I couldn’t. She didn’t understand. She’d been taken too many times from me, and tonight the hunger was on her face. She knew it was there, and for a moment, I thought she would act on it. She looked ready for it. Ready for me. Finally. Maybe she did mean it when she told me to stay away, but ... I couldn’t, not now that I saw she was ready to act on that ache on her face.
It was a different ball game now. New rules. New stakes. New opponents.
I eased myself down into the chair in her bedroom’s corner and sat back to watch her sleep.
Sleep, Blake. Tomorrow everything changes.
She wasn’t alone in this new battle because I knew things were changing for me too.
I was changing.
Chapter Twenty
Blake
I woke up, and in a second everything came back to me. I gasped and rolled over, then deflated.
Creighton wasn’t here. I thought ... I woke during the night and thought he was here. It should’ve enraged me. I just slept better.
I groaned, falling onto my back, and raised my hands. Balling them into fists, I pressed them to my forehead.
What was I doing?
I told him to stay away, but fuck. Fuck! How he looked at me and how I looked at him.
I wanted him.
I’d felt this need for him the first night he came to me, and it’d only gotten worse each night after except fear accompanied it. Fear because good Lord, that would change everything. Was I ready?
Except last night, I hadn’t cared. I’d been two seconds away from doing something about it. Yanking him to me. Pressing my mouth to his. I’d had such a physical and visceral reaction to him. It tookeverythingout of me not to lunge at him, and he saw it. I know he saw my reaction.
Creighton and me.
I blew out a breath.
That was nuts.
And yet I couldn’t deny the ache that was building in me again at merely remembering last night.
I was lying here, more upset about my lack of control with Creighton than I was about being kidnapped. Fucking. Kidnapped.
Again.
A soft sigh left me.
