No.
I want to break her further, until she stops pretending she is whole, until she stops fighting what she is, until all she feels, smells, tastes, breathes… is me.
I want to fuck her until her thoughts scatter and her eyes roll back and she forgets where she ends and I begin.
The psycho finally meets his equal.
After my shower and getting myself off, I head for my closet as my phone vibrates on the dresser.
A message from one of my men.
Port. Arrival scheduled for ten minutes from now.
Being on this island does not mean the work has paused. It only makes it more complicated, but I don’t give a shit.
She is here, and so am I.
I finish dressing in jeans and a hoodie, pull on my boots, then reach for my keys and pause.
Remembering how I found out the morning after the party that my Lamborghini was gone, my thoughts went straight to my spitfire. She might have taken it without realising it was mine, or perhaps she did it on purpose, simply to provoke me further, but either way it only succeeded in making her occupy even more of my mind than she already did.
Because my girl and my car are an exceptionally dangerous combination.
I have a spare key, and in the days since I arrived on this miserable, rain soaked island, I have used it more than once to meet my men for business.
I step out into the cool air and take the path toward the main academy, turning right toward the parking area, and I feel it immediately.
I am being followed.
Not merely followed, followed byher.
I don’t turn, because I feel her without the need to see her, sense her in the depths of my being, and I swear that maddening trace of vanilla tangled with the warmth of her skin lingers in the air even from this distance.
I smirk slowly.
Because I am certain she is up to something.
Making good on trying to kill me, perhaps.
I reach the car and pause as I look at it, then slide inside, start the engine, and pull away while checking the rear view mirror.
The moment I exit the academy grounds I know she is following me, and I can’t help the faint curl of approval that touches my mouth, because she is good, I will give her that.
Naturally, I change my trajectory and take a turn toward town.
I stop outside a small shop and step out, rolling my shoulders as though nothing is amiss, and though I have no need for anything inside, I buy a pack of cigarettes so I don’t leave empty handed, lingering just long enough to make the stop believable.
I place an unlit cigarette between my lips and walk back to the car, sliding inside once more before pulling away, my gaze returning again and again to the mirror as the road begins to empty behind us, a deranged smirk refusing to leave my mouth.
When the road finally narrows and the trees close in on both sides, my lips curve further.
I can almost taste her decision.
Whatever she is planning, she has already committed to it, already convinced herself she has won, no longer bothering to remain invisible.
My fingers loosen on the wheel as my gaze flicks once more to the mirror, catching the faintest shift of movement behind me.
There it is.
