“The point,” I reply, “is that you owe me.”
She scoffs, but there’s uncertainty beneath the attitude. “I returned your lighter.”
“Technically, you didn’t,” I point out with a shrug.
Huffing, she rubs her red wrists. “Whatever. You have it back now, so I don’t see the problem.”
“In my world, Raven, everything is transactional. You took something that belonged to me. I’ve taken something inreturn…” I gesture to her disheveled state, “…but that only begins to balance the scales.”
“What exactly are you saying?” Her voice has that delicious edge of wariness now, the first genuine fear I’ve heard since I entered her apartment.
“I’m saying you owe me favors.” I lean down, placing my hands on either side of her, caging her in without touching her. “Ten, to be precise. To be collected whenever the fuck I want to. And that might take years.”
She swallows, throat working visibly. “Y-years?”
I smile, letting her see the predator beneath the suit. “Years,” I confirm with a sharp nod. “The other option isonefavor which will begin right now.”
“What is it?” she asks, biting her bottom lip.
“I need you to be my girlfriend—”
A hysteric laugh escapes her. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”
Tutting, I pinch her lips together. “Listen carefully, Little Thief. I need apretendgirlfriend. I need someone who owes me to help with a very special task. Something you’d be perfect for.”
Raven angrily slaps my hand away, and I release her lips. “If you’re saying and doing all this just to fuck me—”
“Your cunt’s good, I’ll give you that,” I reply. “But it’s notthatgood that I’ll use favors to get it. Are you in or out?”
Sighing, she stares at the ceiling for a moment. Then she finally says, “Do I have a choice?”
I straighten and adjust my cuffs with deliberate precision. “There’s always a choice.”
She stares up at me, conflict written across her features. “And if I do this… favor? Task?” she asks finally.
“Then we’re even.” I shrug, the gesture deliberately casual. I reach into my pocket, and almost groan as my fingers close around the familiar weight of my lighter.
She meets my gaze, chin lifting in stubborn defiance despite everything. “I still have your shirt,” she points out. “The one I wore home that night.”
A surprised laugh escapes me, genuine amusement briefly cracking my controlled façade. “Keep it,” I tell her. My gaze lands on her phone on the nightstand, and I pick it up. “Smile.”
After unlocking her phone, I quickly save my number in her contacts and call myself from her device. I’ll save her number later.
I move toward the door, pausing at the threshold to look back at her one last time. At where she sits in the center of the bed, her shirt clutched to her chest, face marked by my release. Instead of glaring in anger, she smiles saccharinely. I don’t trust that smile one fucking bit.
“I’ll be at Holston’s again on Friday morning,” I say. “That should give you enough time to finish up anything you’re working on right now. And Raven?”
“Yes?”
“You better show up and stay for the entire meeting when I drop by again.”
With a dramatic eye roll, she replies, “Wouldn’t dream of not being there.”
“You better not,” I rasp. “I’m not a good guy, Raven. Hell, I’m not even nice most of the time. If you keep pushing me, you’ll regret it.”
I don’t tell her that a big part of me really wants her to keep pushing me, or that my heart does this weird flutter at the thought of Raven being mine even if it’s just pretend.
Love’s never been something I’ve given much thought. Lust, sure. But love… I never thought that was in the cards for me. But after meeting this infuriatingly perfect menace that stole from me, I’m no longer sure.
