Page 87 of Into Pitch

“Alone?” I clarify, because surely I misheard.

“Yes.”

A short, incredulous laugh bursts from my panicked chest. “You cannot be serious.”

He steps nearer, zipping the bag and setting it down near the door. “You’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the point,” I snap, flinging the blankets off my legs to stand.

“It isn’t?” The bastard retorts as if he doesn’t know exactly what I am saying.

“No!” I scoff, heart pounding. “You don’t just get to disappear after everything and expect me to be okay with it!”

“I’m not disappearing, Sadie. I’m handling something.” He sighs.

“Handling what?” I growl, still in disbelief.

“Something that requires my attention.”

“That’s vague as fuck,” I shoot back.

His eyes narrow on my tone, but his voice remains even. “I need you to stay here because it is the safest place for you.”

I scoff, my fingers curling into fists at my side. “Oh, so now we’re labeling my stay here as a necessity to keep me from harm?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know what it is. You’re framing this like you’re doing me a favor.” I snarl.

“I am.”

“You kidnapped me and now you’re just stepping out? Like I’m a houseplant you can leave on a windowsill?” I practically shriek.

He exhales slowly. “Sadie—”

“No,” I cut in, voice rising. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pull me apart piece by piece then leave me alone in the woods to spiral!”

That gets his attention and he steps closer, hands lifting. “You’re not alone.”

I gesture wildly to the cabin around me. “Oh, right. The trees will keep me company.”

He sighs and grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder before turning on his heel and exiting the bedroom. I’m right on his ass, furious as I follow in his footsteps.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand. Really wishing I had that crowbar again right about now. “You kidnapped me and dragged me out here. You trapped me in these woods! You’ve been—” I choke on the rest because my mind wants to say you’ve been inside of me. You’ve been all over me and in my head like he owns real estate there.

“And now you’re just… stepping out? Like I’m a dog you can leave with a bowl of water?”

He doesn’t flinch or bother to look offended. Which pisses me off more because he grabs a mug from the counter and bothers to pour himself coffee before he completely fucks off on me.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmurs.

“That is not the point.”

He turns, leaning his hip against the counter to finally look at me fully. His icy blue eyes sharp and his expression far too composed for the chaos he just dropped on me.

“It isn’t?” He asks, like he’s genuinely curious.

“No!” I screech, hands flexing at my sides. “You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to pull me apart until you like what you see and then leave me alone in a cabin to—what—marinate?”