I hang up before she can ask anything else, the truth ringing louder than her voice. My Nonna isn’t there.
Twenty- Four
“They make one move, and I’ll answer with ten bodies. That’s not war. That’s math.” – Cyan MacBrady.
The bathroom door slams open, echoing off the marble walls just as I’m getting out the shower. I expected this. Aria storms in like a wild thing, curls falling loose, cheeks flushed, breathing hard, like she just ran a goddamn marathon. I barely get a towel around my waist before she’s on me. Fists pounding against my chest.
“Where the fuck is my Nonna?” Another hit. “You drugged me. You fucking kidnapped my grandmother to control me! You have no right.”
“You were spiraling,” I bite out. “I made the call.”
“Made the call?” She laughs bitterly. “Do you even hear yourself? You don’t get to make those decisions for me. You don’t get to fucking sedate me like some caged animal—because I was having a freak-out after watching a man get his brains blown out!” Her voice cracks on that last word, and, fuck, it’s like a hook in my chest. But I don’t let it show. I can’t. “You-you don’t get to take my fear and decide what I do with it.”
“Your fear,” I say, stepping closer, “almost got you killed.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off, closing the distance until she’s pinned between me and the sink. “You were seconds from being raped, Aria. Seconds, and if I hadn’t fucking found you in time...you’d be a cold body in an alley, and I’d be picking out a fucking coffin.” She sucks in a shuddering breath. I don’t stop. “Instead, you woke up here. Alive, breathing, and safe.” My voice drops, lethal. “Would you rather I find you dead so you can keep pretending I’m the villain?”
Her gaze burns into mine, her jaw trembles, her hands shake before she fists them again. “You don’t own me, Cyan. And you had no right to take my grandmother.”
I lean in, lips close to her ear. “That’s where you’re wrong, Dove.”
She yanks my gun from the countertop where I left it and aims it right at my chest. Her hands tremble, finger on the trigger. Desperation flickers in her wide hazel eyes. She’s grasping for control, for something to anchor herself to after everything I’ve taken from her.
I grab her wrist and bring the gun tighter, pressing the muzzle flat against my chest. “Careful, Dove.” I shift, tilting the gun so she can see exactly where my thumb rests against the small steel switch. “That safety? It’s on.” I click it off with a sharp metallic snap. “Now it’s off.”
Her breath catches: her eyes flick from the gun to me, realizing she’s been holding power she never truly had “Go on, you have a real shot, Dove. All you have to do is squeeze.” A beat.
Her jaw trembles. Her shoulders sag. She lowers the gun. I press my forehead to hers. “You say you’re not mine, but your actions say differently.” I take the gun from her and flick the safety back on.
“You want your grandmother?” I pause. I pull back just enough to see her face. “Then you’ll stay with me. No more running. No more fighting me.” Her lashes flicker, her resistance hangs by a thread. “You’re already caught, Aria. All I’m doing is waiting for you to admit it.”
***
After our bathroom confrontation, I step out of the closet to find her sitting on the couch, hazel eyes fixed on the Boston harbor. “Get dressed, Dove. We’re heading back to Crescent Bay.” She doesn’t even look at me. Instead, her gaze remains locked on the harbor as if it held all her answers. I watch as she plays with the hem of her pink checkered pajamas, her nails digging into the fabric.
“I have nothing here, Cyan. My clothes that I wore yesterday are gone. I’d like to take a shower. Get out of these.” Her voice is distant but clear. “Maybe they’re Elana’s clothes? She must’ve left them behind.” The name slithers between us like an insult. Elana? Aria is trying to provoke me, testing boundaries she doesn’t yet understand. Doesn’t she realize she’s the one in my home, wearing clothes I bought for her?
“Can Johnny take me to my aunt? I’d prefer not to be in the same car as you.” Her tone is clipped, like she’s done with the conversation.
“Don’t bark up the wrong fucking tree, Dove. Elana’s irrelevant. Those clothes? They’re yours. Your stuff is in the closet.” I nod toward the walk-in. “A personal shopper stocked it. The left side is all yours. Now, shower and get dressed. We need to leave.”
Aria turns to me; her expression is all fire. “So, what’s the dress code for this little abduction? Casual chic or am I to wear hostage couture?” My lips twitch. She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s angry.
“How about we go with the chicest hostage look? Just remember, the only thing truly mandatory is looking irresistible. And trust me, you always do.” The second the words leave my mouth, I see it; the flicker of something raw in her eyes.
She surges to her feet, standing toe-to-toe with me, and fuck, my blood goes straight to my cock. “Irresistible? That’s what I am to you? A captive you can dress up and parade around like a pet. What did you tell your shopper? To pick out clothing that screams ‘elegant hostage’?” Her breasts are rising and falling too fast, but she holds her ground, challenging me.
I don’t step back. Instead, I reach out and brush a stray curl from her face. Her lips part, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away. “Oh, come on, Dove, you’re more than irresistible... You’re my enchantress... and if you let me, I’ll show you exactly what I mean.” For a split second, heat flares in her eyes. Something dark and wanting. Then she lifts both hands and flips me off, middle fingers stabbing the air between us. I let out a slow chuckle as I take her in. Aria does not know what she does to me… she can fight all she wants. Hell, I want her to. She doesn’t realize she’s already lost.
“Listen here, love, I’ve got bigger plans for what you could do with those fingers of yours.” My gaze drops, dragging over her body. “How about we spice up that captive look of yours right now? Let’s kick it off by choosing some killer matching underwear together.”
Her hazel eyes flare with outrage. “You can only dream of my underwear.” With a triumphant toss of her curls, she spins on her heel and storms toward the bathroom, hips swaying and my cock kicks like it’s trying to break free. Fucking hell. I clench my jaw, watching her disappear. I could play this game with her all-damn day, but time isn’t on our side. We should have left Boston hours ago. We need to return to Crescent Bay, where she’ll be safest.
An hour later, she’s fed, showered, dressed and radiating pure loathing beside me in the elevator. I let the silence stretch, waiting for her to crack. It doesn’t take long. “What will I tell my aunt, Cyan?” She hisses through clenched teeth. “When she comes to visit my grandmother? Aunt Cathy spends every other weekend visiting her in Crescent Bay. She’ll notice she’s not there.”
“Tell her what she needs to hear, Dove. Your grandmother got into the program. A spot opened. You took it.”
She turns to glare at me. “She’ll want to see her.”
“Tell her no one may see her right now.”
