Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
The mere thought sets fire to my blood.
Mine. She is mine. My property.
I nudge her shoulder. “Wake up, Elyse.”
Nothing.
I shove a little harder this time, and that does the trick. She wakes with a squeak, then scrambles backward into a sitting position, rubbing at her eyes. “Sebastian?”
“Expecting someone else?”
“What?” She blinks slowly, then scans the room, relaxing when her surroundings come into focus. “What are you doing out here?”
I shove at the bag with my hand. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be asking the questions. Now why don’t you tell me what the hell you’re doing sleeping out here?”
My protective instinct when it comes to this girl is mental. She’s not my fucking problem, but for some reason, I can’t sit back and let her be.
Sleep still clings to her eyes, and her dark hair is matted and sticking up on the side where she was lying on it. “I wasn’t sleeping out here. I fell asleep while taking care of Bow.”
The little black mutt lifts his head and blinks his big brown eyes at her when she says his name. Even the homeless, emaciated dog is smitten with her.
I shake my head and remind myself why I came out here in the first place.
“For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not asking you to believe me.”
My patience for her bullshit is stretched thin as it is. I didn’t expect her to come to me and tell me why she’s been sleeping in the closet, but finding her hiding out here asleep leaves me even more on edge. She claims it’s because of the mutt, but I know better. She’s going to tell me what’s going on before we leave this cottage.
I suck a slow, steady breath in through my nose and try to calm myself. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a shit liar?”
She looks confused, but I know it’s a front. “No. But I don’t really care what other people say about me.”
I’m reminded of the words I spoke to Bel. The words that she overheard. Do I apologize now? I’m so caught up in my own mind. Fuck me. Elyse has a terrible habit of winding me all up and making me lose my fucking mind.
“What’s been going on with you lately?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” I pin her with a glare.
She sits up a little straighter, flecks of doubt and suspicion appearing in her eyes. “I don’t.”
I smirk and reach for her, the need to touch her in some capacity overcoming me. It’s a terrible idea because I know the moment I touch her, the more I’ll crave her, but I can’t be denied. Gripping her chin between my fingers, I force her to look at me. Really look at me. “I’ll give you one opportunity to tell me the truth, Ely. One chance. That’s all you’re getting, and remember it’s one more chance than I typically give to others.”
21
Sebastian
One chance.
Her little throat bobs, and I know I’ve caught her. Trapped her. I can practically see the panic bubbling to the surface, and she tries to look away, but I pinch her chin a little harder, stopping her.
“Now, tell me, Prey. What has caused you to start sleeping in the closet versus the bedroom I provided you in the staff quarters?”
“I….” Her lips tremble, and I’m tempted to bite them just to see if she tastes as pure and sweet as she looks at this very moment. When I look back into her eyes, I see ice-filled lakes of fear, and that makes me pause. My stomach churns, the whiskey I drank threatening to climb up my throat. My thoughts go to the worst.
Something happened. Something bad. Something she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me. And of course not, why should she trust me?
As much as I love seeing her vulnerable, all her hard layers peeled back to expose her softness, I'm the only one allowed to break her down. I’m the only one allowed to taste her fear.
“Tell me. Now,” I grit out, trying my best to keep my voice soft.
She looks at me defiantly. “It’s not your problem. I’m just the maid. Remember?”
That stings, but I deserve it. I’m an asshole.
The longer we stare at one another, the more I see how much my words hurt her. How could she ever believe she is merely the maid?
Oh, I don’t know, idiot. You treat her like it.
I could kick myself in the ass right now as I search my mind for the right words to say. I didn’t think I’d be put on the spot to apologize, but I find it admirable that she expects me to and holds me accountable.
She remains staring, exuding beauty and patience.
I exhale. “Okay, I’m not good at this, but well… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it badly. You know, what you heard me say to Bel. I don’t think you're just the maid.”