Page 15

It was so novel to me, and I wanted to keep experiencing it. This god-awful craving that bordered on pain, a delicious ache that had begun filling in the fractured gaps inside of me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the woman I’d handcuffed to the motel bed.

It really was so she wouldn’t agitate her wound. And maybe a little because I knew, given the chance, she’d stab me and run for the hills as soon as she woke up.

I didn’t want to give her that chance. What if I let her go and she walked into something even worse? I had the chance to save her right now, I could help her, and I wasn’t going to forfeit it.

I was a selfish man. Greedy, too. I wasn’t ready to let her go and I’d do anything to get her to stay. Like make up a reason I’d taken her and fabricate a reason she had to stay with me.

After all, who could say no to twenty thousand dollars?

SIX

My head pounded with each beat of my heart, like there was a tiny man with a jackhammer who’d taken up residence in my skull. I groaned, blinking my eyes open.

Everything was blurry at first, and then the room slowly came into focus.

I stared at the bed I was lying on, my eyes darting around the room. It looked like every grungy motel room I’d ever stayed at mashed into one.

My arms were stretched above me, and when I tried to pull them, there was resistance. Tentatively, I curled my fingers until I was touching metal.

“The fuck…?” My throat was thick and dry, my words croaking out of me. I’d been in handcuffs a few times in my teenage years, before I’d run away, so I was fairly familiar with the feel of them.

And these were, without a doubt, fucking handcuffs.

“Hey!” I cried hoarsely. It broke in half with how dry my mouth was, and the sound only made the pounding in my head worse.

The quiet noise of a TV played nearby, a no-nonsense voice talking about weather systems and a storm front moving in.

I looked at the nightstand to the right of me, frowning when I noticed the flowers. Three of them, lined up neatly. It niggled at a memory in the back of my mind. That looked just like…

The flowers I’d found outside my motel room?

What the fuck was going on? The last thing I remembered was being in Thorne’s office… No, there’d been someone else there, and then Tom⁠—

The door swung open, and a frisson of fear danced down my spine. I pulled on the restraints with all the strength I could put into it. Metal clanked against metal, then there was a quiet laugh.

It was the man from the shop. The one who’d pistol-whipped Jay. The one I’d stabbed in the chest with a pen. The deranged man in the skull mask.

Except he wasn’t wearing the mask now.

His face was on full display and he was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. He smiled, and my heart thumped.

“Oh, you’re awake. You’ve been out for nearly a day, I was getting worried. How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes bright and keen on mine.

What the hell was going on?

He glanced at the nightstand, and I followed his gaze to the yellow flowers. Dread curled in the pit of my stomach, and I swallowed hard as I studied him.

“I got those for you. Do you like them?”

What the fuck?

I said nothing as I watched him. He had light blond hair that curled subtly at the ends, vivid green eyes set under wickedly arched brows, and high cheekbones that angled toward a long straight nose. My gaze lowered to his full wide lips, his deep cupid’s bow, then lower to a strong jawline. He was just as tall as I remembered, and all of that paired with his voice? He was devastating.

His black shirt strained across his broad chest, the short sleeves clinging to his biceps. His pants were black, too, and a little looser than his shirt. They had a million pockets, and I wondered if he ever used them all. We had pants like that at the Army Surplus store, they were kind of like military cargo or something, and I’d always wondered why someone would need that many pockets.

I was staring, but he was staring, too. Those bright green eyes, alluringly tilted up at the corners, just a little, were sliding over my face, trailing down my body, and slowly making their way back up. When his gaze met mine again, it felt like a punch to the gut.