“No? What do you mean–no?”
“I know you’ve been told no before. Surely, I don’t have to educate you on the meaning. You’re not leaving. Like I said, you’ll stay here–for now.” I stand tall and make my way around the island once again. “It’s not safe for you to go back to your apartment until Brad is found. I’ll send someone to take a look before you go back.”
Do I think he’s running scared and it’s unlikely he’ll actually come after her?Yes.
Am I overreacting and grasping at fucking straws, so I have a reason to keep her here for a little longer?Also yes.
“I’m a grown ass woman, Ryker. You don’t own me, which means I can do whatever the fuck I want. You can’t keep me here,” she argues as she slowly makes her way back to the guest room.
“You’re right. I don’t own you. If I did, things would be very different, I can assure you,” I attest. The last thing I should be thinking about is owning her; but now, it’s all I can think about. She definitely needs some discipline in her life.
Nope.
I’m twenty-one years older than her and she should be with someone her own age. Although, after the incident at Gravity, I am curious if she was there because of an actual interest in BDSM or if she was just there to have fun. My blood pressure rises all over again at the reminder of that clusterfuck of an evening. I’m still pissed about it–clearly. At some point, I’ll bring it up, but not today. If nothing else, I should make sure she has guidelines of whatnotto do, and how to kink responsibly.
“I would feel better if you stayed here. Safety concerns aside, the drugs aren't completely out of your system yet and you shouldn’t be alone. I have a state of the art security system and I’ll get you a key and you can come and go as you please, but I’d prefer if you go out only when necessary until we find the shithead.”
“The only place I’ll really need to go is work,” she replies softly, staring at the floor. “I wait tables at Martin’s, so it’ll be evenings mostly.”
Now I’m really curious, because I assumed she’d graduated college by now. Between her scholarship and college prep classes, she was certainly on that path. I store my manyquestions away to bring up another time, when she’s more–open.
“However you need to come and go, you can.”
“I don’t have any clothes here.” Her words are punctuated with a sharp edge.
I knew this would come up, so I already handled it.
“I have clothes being delivered for you. They should be here soon. In the meantime, I put a pair of my sweats in your room that you can wear.”
She lets out a soft gasp. “Seriously? Look at me. Your clothes arenotgoing to fit me. And how could you even begin toorderclothes without knowing what size I need?”
“Everything will fit. Trust me.”
What I don’t say is, I sat at her bedside all night watching her sleep. Mostly, I was worried and felt the need to make sure she was okay. Then there was the part of me that just couldn’t tear my eyes from her body. Jesus, I’m a creepy mother fucker.
A minute passes silently and she finally nods in agreement. “Fine, I’ll stay. But as soon as we get the all clear, I'm going home. I need to take a shower and make some phone calls.”
“Your phone is in your purse, which is on the nightstand.”
Then I watch her intently until she disappears through the doorway of the guest room.
What have I gotten myself into?
15
Arabella
What the hell is happening? One minute I’m living my usual chaotic life and the next, I’m staying in Ryker Hart’s guest room after being drugged and I assume almost sexually assaulted by a fuckingBrad. I probably deserve whatever’s coming to me after the chaos I’ve caused. My mother would say it’s my own fault and I was just looking for trouble.
Blowing out a breath, a tear rolls slowly down my cheek and my eyelids feel hot, and I know there are more coming if I don’t shut it down quickly. I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t alittleshaken up by what happened, but I know I should be more upset than I feel. Aside from the single tear, I’m numb. Wiping it from my cheek, I notice my purse on the nightstand, right where he said it would be. More salty tears start to fall when I see three missed calls and more than one frantic text from my best friend.
WRIN:What the fuck, Ari! Where. Are. You? I have a missed call from you and now you’re not answeringyour goddamn phone. I swear to god you better still be mouth deep in dick right now.
My brain spends entirely too long trying to work out the logistics of that and just like that, in classic Wrinley fashion, she’s brought a smile to my face and I’m no longer crying.
WRIN:Hellooooooo!!!!
WRIN:Okay, I’m starting to get worried. If I don’t hear from you in the next 37 minutes, I’m activating emergency response protocol.
