I fix him with the full force of my defiant glower. I won’t make this easy for him. If the way I look at him disturbs him, he’ll be eager to let me go soon enough.
36
ABIGAIL
“Fine,” Dane bites out, green eyes blazing. “You want to know how I became GentAnon? I borrowed your laptop and found your erotica.”
I gape at him. “Borrowed?You mean you stole it. How? When?”
His gaze cuts away for an instant before snapping back to mine. “I went into your apartment and found your laptop two months ago. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Youwent in?” I press, forcing him to confront the softer language he’s selecting over the harsh truth. “So, you broke into my home more than once.”
“I told you that you don’t want to hear this.” He says it like I’m the unreasonable one.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, I absolutely do. I wantyouto hear it. Listen to how crazy this is. How can you expect me to love you after everything you’ve done to me?”
He glares at me with open defiance. “Everything I’ve done has been for you. I had to make sure you truly wanted me. The first night we met—the night you don’t remember—you told me you wanted to be overpowered. Forced. I had to know that wasreal before I acted out the dark fantasy that we share. Both of us, Abigail. You wanted everything that I offered you. Or have you forgotten how many orgasms I gave you?”
My fingers shake with the rage that rushes through my system, so I curl them into fists. “You know I orgasm when a man forces himself on me. I told you what happened with Tom on the night of my debutante ball. How he did it again and again, and how ashamed I felt for letting it happen. You assaulted me, Dane.”
His head jerks to the side in a staunch refusal of my accusation. “You’re not thinking clearly,” he says roughly. “I am nothing like him. I protect you from men like him. Just like I protected you from your neighbor, Ron.”
The memory of Dane’s blood-splattered face flashes across my mind. He’d said he was going to talk to Ron, and he returned covered in mud and blood.
“What did you do to him?” I ask, breathless with dawning horror.
Dark brows draw together in forbidding slashes. “I made sure he’ll never touch you again.”
“What does that mean?” I demand, voice going shrill despite my efforts to remain calm and rational.
“It means I’ll do what’s necessary to keep you safe,” he snaps back, his composure slipping too. “This conversation is over.”
“I don’t think so,” I hiss. “You don’t get to tell me when to shut up. You don’t control me. Not anymore.”
He scowls. “I never tried to control you. How many times do I have to tell you that I want you just as you are? I expect obedience when we fuck because that’s what we both like. We’re perfectly compatible.”
“You’re delusional.”
His face goes cold again, his eyes unnervingly calculating.
“I won’t entertain this conversation further. Rail at me if you want. Get it out of your system. But I’m no longer participating.”
I clench my jaw shut to hold in a scream of impotent rage. Shouting at him will get me nowhere. He seems convinced that I’m hysterical, irrational. After he stalked and kidnapped me.
Playing into his characterization of my behavior will only make him more convinced that he’s right to hold me here against my will.
I watch in stony silence as he takes the plates to the sink. The dishes clatter a bit more loudly than necessary as he cleans up, tension clear in every taut line of his powerful body. And yet, he manages to carry out the chore with a completely blank expression.
He doesn’t ask for my help as he dries the pans and puts everything neatly back in its place.
Something about the domesticity of the situation brings his psychopathy into sharp relief. He’s holding me against my will, but instead of using violence to subdue me, he’s cooking and cleaning for me. As though I’m a guest rather than his captive.
He truly thinks I’ll just get over his heinous crimes against me. He’s acting as though we can be together like a normal couple.
If anything, he’s doting on me. In his twisted mind, he probably thinks that he’s seeing to my every need.
He’s incapable of understanding that what I need more than anything is to get away from him.
