Page 92 of Coveted

When I open my mouth to protest, he shakes his head in warning. “No arguments, remember?”

“You’re incredibly toxic, you know that?”

He shrugs. “I call it caring deeply. We can discuss it once you’re locked in my penthouse.”

While he exchanges notes with the agents, I’m left momentarily dazed. By his audacity, but also because he implied he cares deeply about me in front of all these people. He said it like an obvious and natural fact.

The blonde agent appears next to me.

“Asset is a term we use for a person under our protection. Someone precious.” She winks. “Nobody’s ever hired me to protect a boat.”

The iron bars around my heart loosen their grip ever-so-slightly.

It never crossed my mind that I might be precious to another person. Especially to Lucan, who has seemed largely heartless from the moment I met him. I even considered him soulless, but now I’m not so sure.

What actually lies beneath his cold, hard exterior? A beating red heart? Endless, rotting darkness? I’ve only seen rare glimpses, like when he was lost in the aftermath of orgasm on the tower roof, hands in my hair and blue eyes blazing.

“Let’s go, Sadie,” he says when he’s finished with the agents. “I’m taking you to my home. You’ll be safe there. It’ll be just you and me.”

Maybe it’s my fear of the killer, or maybe it’s my curiosity about Lucan, but I swallow my pride and do as he says.

CHAPTER 22

Sadie

Lucan seems distant on the brief drive to his building, even for him. His fist clenches the steering wheel of his liquid-black car as if he’s furious, yet his expression is like a marble statue’s.

“Are you angry at me?” I ask.

“No,” he says, spinning the steering wheel with one hand. “I’m angry at myself for letting you disappear. I’m angry at that bastard for coming after you again. I’m not doing enough.”

I hesitate to respond, because what more could he do? Probably some rich-person thing I can’t even imagine.

“That’s twice he’s tried though,” I say. “And he failed.”

“Barely failed. He only needs to succeed once and you’re gone forever.”

He says the last part in a hollow voice instead of his usual stern tone, as if the thought really bothers him.

“For tonight, he’s not a threat,” I say. “He would’ve run a mile when he saw all those agents.”

“You would think so, but I’m not taking any chances,” says Lucan.

I retrieve my phone to find several messages from Juliette and Clara. I quickly reply, telling them I’m okay and heading to Lucan’s place. My friends respond with long strings of lewd, inappropriate emojis. Feeling Lucan’s gaze on me, I hastily dim the phone screen.

It’s too late though. He’s already seen the eggplant and water-splash images my friends sent.

“Anything important?” he asks with a mocking tone.

I stuff the phone in my bag. “Nothing you need to know about.”

On a quiet street, he pulls the car into an unmarked garage. When I reach for the car-door handle, needing air, Lucan holds my arm.

“Wait,” he says.

Behind the car, the garage door slides shut with a solid, airtight thunk.

“That’s not a normal door, is it?” I have the sudden, unpleasant sensation of being trapped. “What’s going on?”