“Have you packed yet?” he continues.
“How did you?—”
“You’re not the first runaway,” Ghost cuts me off. His voice is smooth, but it almost sounds like he’s holding back.
“Who says I’m going to run?” Finding strength where there is none, I’m managing to hold a conversation. That’s a good sign, right?
“No one, but you’re smart.”
“You think I’m smart?”Come on, Gemma. Now isn’t the time to get all blushy from someone’s compliments.
His head tilts slowly in a nod. “Have you packed yet?”
“I have.” Reluctant as I am to admit it, I’m not holding any of the cards. Going along with whatever he says is probably the best way to stay alive.
“Good. Grab your things. You’re coming with me.”
“What?” My brow furrows, and I start shaking my head. “You can’t expect me to bring my mother?—”
“I don’t. She’s staying.”
I look over my shoulder to see if Mom’s in the hall, trying to eavesdrop. It’s only then that I realize she actually went to her room, and she’s humming a tune.
“You think I’m just gonna drop everything and go with you? That’s … that’s…”
“I don’t think.” He leans in closer, and the air around us starts to buzz. “I know you are.”
Heat curls low in my belly, and I hate how fast my body reacts. How much it wants to obey, the same way it did last night.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I ask, even though I sort of do already.
He doesn’t answer right away. But he doesn’t need to either, as his hand rises from his side, and he pulls his mask off, slow and deliberate.
“Wouldn’t do this if you couldn’t.”
His words nearly don’t make it into my ears while I steal my first glimpse of his face. Ghost is beyond handsome, with a jaw sharp enough to cut through diamonds and a perfect peppering of yesterday’s stubble clinging to his cheeks. Strong, defined temptation hidden beneath his mask.
“Gemma.” Mom’s voice pulls me away from my shameless gawking. “Who’s at the door?”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, and Ghost’s full lips perk up in a devious grin. “It’s a … friend. Someone from…”
“Work.” He jumps in to save my fumbling. He speaks again, but this time softer. “Your mom?”
I nod.
“My little Gem never told me about any friends.” Mom cranes her neck to meet his eyes, her mouth slightly agape. “Especially none as handsome as you.”
And as if Ghost really was just a friend from work, he chuckles at her flattery. A sound I wouldn’t believe he could make after the introduction he gave last night. Worst of all is how it scrambles every logical thought I have. Almost like I can actually see him as human when I know he’s something far worse.
“Little Gem? I like that.” His burning gaze shifts between me and Mom. “May I come in?”
He doesn’t wait for either of us to answer, stepping forward and expecting me to crumble. What he doesn’t know is how close I actually am. Especially when he plays this role way too well.
“Of course,” Mom says, pleasantly. “I’ll boil the kettle for tea.”
I step aside to let the giant pass. He ducks to get through the door, but before he delves farther into our little house, his hand brushes the small of my back. The gentle brush sends my mind into a spiral. Radiating warmth courses from the place his fingers touch, sending tendrils of pleasure rippling through my nerves before settling in that hollow place in my core.
“I have to apologize, but we won’t be here long enough for tea.” Ghost turns to me with a smirk on his face. Smug, confident. He holds all the cards, and he knows it.
