“Maybe I should just catch a ride with Mac.” I shift, uneasy under his heavy gaze, looking up and down the street for the now familiar SUV, anxious over the thought of riding on the back of Koen’s bike again.
“I sent Mac home.” Koen’s voice sounds darker than it did before. He sits back, assessing me for a moment before he says, “Get on.” His gaze goes back to the dash.
Annoyance flares in me at the assertiveness in his tone. Like I’m just going to jump when he says fucking jump. As much as I don’t want to get on the bike right now, Ireallydon’t want to betoldto get on the fucking bike right now. And the way hejust looked at me… like heownsme… expecting me just to do everything he says without question…
What if he asks you to kill someone, Briar? What if he demands it? Are you going to just do as you’re told?
“No.”
Koen stills, and I stiffen. His head tilts slowly back in my direction. It’s predatory, dangerous, and it’s as if he’s giving me a chance to correct my answer.
“I wasn’t asking.”
I swallow hard.
“Get on the bike, Ballerina.” The dominance in his tone sets off an unrecognizable flare of defiance in me. After waking up in his bed, whatever the fuck happened last night, Giovanni’s threats, Remi’s hurt little voice on the other end of that phone… I amnotin a good mood, and like it or not, I’m about to make itKoen’sfucking problem.
“I saidno.”
“You really want to test me tonight?”
Sure, you know what? Why the fuck not? What else do I have to lose? I’m tired of tiptoeing around, wondering where the line is. Time to find out just how far Koen’s willing to go to make me kneel.
I cross my arms across my chest and sharpen my gaze. “I’m not getting on that bike. It’s cold.”
His jaw ticks, the muscles in his arms flex as well. “Last chance, love. Get. On. The. Bike.”
I lift my chin, my voice mimicking his clipped, dark order. “Make. Me.”
A deadly silence stretches between us, and neither of us moves. His shadowed gaze is fixed on me, and I don’t dare look away. He moves slowly, first lowering the kickstand, then climbing off the bike with slow, deliberate precision. My nervesare on fire, every instinct screaming at me to fold, give in, or even run, but I stand rooted in place.
He prowls closer, and I fight the urge to flinch away from him. He keeps coming, until he’s inches from my face, forcing me to tilt my chin to keep his eye andoh, if looks could kill. The green in his eyes is gone—they’re nearly black now when they drop from my eyes to my mouth.
“You want me to? Because I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.” Something dangerous sparks in his eyes and I feel a tremble ripple through me. He sees it too. “You’re already shaking. I have a feeling you won’t like it very much when I put you on your knees and fuck that attitude right out of your pretty little mouth.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The words I intend to come out with a bite, instead, sneak out in a half whisper, my breath failing me.
Koen smiles, and I think I stop breathing.
“Oh, I think I would.”
My eyes narrow, and I go to open my mouth again, but his hand shoots up, wrapping around my throat. His thumb falls just over my now thunderous pulse. The shadows playing in his eyes darken, his grip tightens until he cuts off my air. My hands fly to his, scrambling to pry his fingers off of me—to loosen his grip—but he doesn’t budge. Darkness edges along the corners of my vision and I stop fighting him, my hands going still. It’s only then he releases me, and I fall against him, sucking in air.
“Just giving you a little taste of what you’re asking for.” He winks, and I glare up at him, too busy returning oxygen to my lungs to bite back.
He leaves me gasping for breath against the wall of the studio, stalking back to the bike. “Get on the goddamn bike, Briar Rose.” His gaze cuts back to me and he smiles again. “I dare you not to.”
49
RÍ
BRIAR
Now
I haven’t seen Koen since our little stand-off outside of the Conservatory days ago.
Realizing he’s even more unhinged than I thought, I gave in. Freezing my ass off on thatgoddamn bikeall the way home.
