“Grayson?” I whisper.
“Hm.”
“I’m really worried about Atticus.”
“Told you, he thinks you’re on vacation.”
“Why are you gone all day?”
“Looking for Riser.”
“Why? He’s not coming back. I’m fine.” I keep my voice soft. Sweet. The way he likes it.
His eyes snap open. “Are youthinkingagain?”
“No!” I squeak. Panic tightens my throat, but I smile through it.Stick to the plan.“Uh, Grayson… I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.”
Silence.
“I was upset that day at the prison,” I add quickly. “Jealous. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything I said.”
“Go to sleep,” he grumbles.
I straddle him, legs trembling, hoping the boldness will work. The slightest smirk flashes, and his hands trail up my thighs, slow and sure, like he’s admiring something he owns.
“I love you, Rowen Grayson.” I don’t whisper it. Ideclareit. I mean it, too. I love this psycho. But love isn’t supposed to come with a lock and chain.
He only stares. No smile. No reaction.
He doesn’t believe me.
So I say what he wants to hear: “Let me prove it. Uncuff me. I won’t run. I just… want to be with you.”
My heart pounds as I wait. If he buys it, I have a chance.
He tilts his head like he’s studying prey.
“Piggy,” he murmurs. “I don’t care if you love me.” He slides a hand behind my neck, grips tight. “I already have you.”
My heart drops. I believe him.
I slump. A beat of silence. Then it hits. That hollow, sinking feeling in my chest.
Hopelessness.
But rage surges up next, bitter and sharp.This is not fair!
“You know what?” I snap, lifting my chin. “You’re lying, Grayson. You do care if I love you.”
The air changes, thick and suffocating. My heartbeat jumps, as if it knows I’m toying with danger.
His gaze darkens, jaw clenching tight. But I don’t stop. I can’t.
“That night, when you made love to me in this room, I felt it. I saw it. Every time I said I loved you, your body gave you away.”
He turns his face, like looking at me might destroy the mask he’s trying to hold in place.
I lean in. “What did you whisper when it was over?”
