“Experience,” he mutters.“You’re twenty-three.”
“And yet I’ve seen things you probably never will,” I say with a yawn.“My father is...probably one of the most dangerous men alive.”
He studies me for a moment.“Is that why you’re not afraid of me?”
“Here, now, it’s just us.Locked in a room.If you decide to kill me right this second, what can he do from a million miles away?”I pause for a beat.“It doesn’t matter who I’m related to or associated with.Anyone can hurt anyone, anywhere, at any time.And no amount of repercussions or bloody aftermath can bring a life back.”
“If you’re smart enough to know that,” he presses, “why the hell are you so reckless with me?”
“Because I have this cute little thing calledinstinctsthat kick in when there’s real danger.”I smile up at him.“And when you’re actually ready to kill me, I’ll know.ThenI’ll fear you.”
His eyes flash.
Oh, he doesnotlike that.Not one bit.
In the next breath, he’s on me.Strong thighs straddling my hips, his fingers locked around my throat.
“What about now, huh?”he snarls.“Fear for your fucking life yet?”
Staring up at him, I rasp out, “There’s a difference betweenthinkingyou should do something and actually doing it.You think you should kill me, because you don’t trust me...but you don’twantto.”
His answering scoff is loaded with derision.“Hm.You just know everything, don’t you?”His grip tightens, strangling me for real now.To kill.“All that knowledge, all those instincts, and you still can’t tell I’m here, right now, to kill you?To watch the life drain out of your pretty little eyes when you finally realize the game’s over,and you lost.”
Reflexively, my hands shot up to his wrist—to grab, twist, break—but I stop myself.Force the instinct down, and instead let my hands settle lightly over his.
Growing up asthmatic made me a liability, so I was forced to train it into a weakness I could control, instead of it controlling me.I went through hellish breath control drills and scenarios until I could regulate airflow under pressure.By the end of it all, I could delay a strangulation trigger for up to ten minutes.More than enough time to frustrate an attacker.
“What Idoknow…” I choke out, “…is that you keep…confusing your desire to kill me…with your desire…to fuck me.”I catch another thin breath, then keep going.“You want one, not the other.You can’t…handle another rejection…from a basic ‘worm’ like me…so it’s easier…to just kill me and be done with it… Right?”
That shot-in-the-dark assessment lands.Hard.Because his glare turns to ice.
“Shut the fuck up,” he grits out.
“No.”I manage a tight, hoarse laugh.“This would be…so much more fun…if we were naked.”
“You’re fucked in the head, aren’t you?”
“Says the man who’s…currently trying to murder me.”
Something shifts.A crease forms between his brows.His cold, dark eyes glaze slightly, like he’s zoning out, caught in some silent war.
Then… “Fuck!”
He jerks back, hand snapping away from my throat like it zapped him.For several tense beats, he just stares down at me, tortured.And then he scrambles off the bed, glancing around the room.“Where’s your inhaler?”
Rubbing my neck, I croak, “I don’t need it.”
He doesn’t listen.With frenzied movements, he flings open the nightstand drawers and rifles through them, then the dresser drawers, knocking things over in search of it.
A few frantic seconds later, he’s towering over me, inhaler in hand.
“Come on.Sit up.Take it.
“I said I don’t need it.”I swat his hand away.The adrenaline rush I’ve got going right now is more than enough.“Strangulation doesn’t trigger me.”
“You sure?”
“Why?Worried I mightdie?”I let out a breathy laugh.“You need help, boss man.”
