“Well, technically, they report to the house manager,” he corrects coolly. “There’s a difference.”
“Not to someone who’s locked in,” I shoot back.
He rises slowly, the chair barely making a sound as he stands. The movement draws my attention in a way I hate. Damn him and his broad shoulders.
“You’re not locked in,” he responds. “You’re protected.”
I laugh, but the sound holds no humor. “That’s a cute lie. Did you practice it in the mirror?”
He steps closer to the table. “Don’t forget, the roads are closed.”
“Then fly me out,” I snap. “I’m sure you can steal a helicopter. Maybe a plane. You’re a criminal after all.”
His mouth curves. “Absolutely not. Can’t risk it.”
My chest tightens. “Yes, you can. I want my mother. I want my father. I want someone who’s not you.”
His jaw flexes.
Good. That hit a nerve.
If he’s mad at me, there is less chance he will associate with me, and then I won’t do something stupid like kiss his smug face.
“I’m a hostage,” I say, voice shaking despite my best efforts.
The word hangs there, ugly and honest, and he moves faster than I expect. In two strides, he’s around the table, closing the distance until I have to tilt my head back to look at him. Heat radiates off his body.
“Watch your mouth,” he commands.
I swallow, then lift my chin. “Make me.”
The air between us snaps tight. I know I should stop taunting him, but I can’t bring myself to quit. Instead, for a second, I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like if he took away my choice and just kissed me.
A soft sigh falls from my lips. Against my lips, I can almost feel the ghost of something touching my skin.
My lids flutter open, and my gaze collides with Lorenzo’s. His pupils are huge and dark. The depth and longing appear endless. He looks like he might devour me.
I step back, heart racing.
Get yourself together.
I take a deep breath and rein in my emotions. Remembering what I was trying to say before I got sidetracked by need and want.
“I never did anything to you.” The words spill out of my mouth with a raw intensity I don’t normally show. “I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve to have my life ripped apart because you decided to punish me.”
His eyes darken. “You left.”
“I was a kid. I did what I was told. I didn’t know—”
“Enough.” He cuts in, voice sharp now. “This is how things have to be.”
“Why?” I demand. “Because it’s easier for you? Because you don’t know how to let go of a grudge without turning it into a war?”
His hand curls at his side. “Because letting you walk back into your old life as if nothing happened isn’t an option.”
I step into his space, fury buzzing under my skin. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I already did.”
