I hear the threat of what he’s not saying, and my soul now trembles with terror. I don’t know him. I don’t know what he’s capable of and what would make him see I’m not lying. I just know I have to try something. Anything.
“Tristan,” I whisper. A whisper is all I can manage in my despair. I’m so scared. “What would you do to me if I don’t tell you? Would you kill me?”
I think back to the kindness in his presence when we first met in the park. That was just days ago. He seemed so genuine. Why did he give me the origami flower if he was going to do this? It was a meaningless gesture on his part, but it meant so much to me.
“Would you really kill me?” I ask, turning to face him.
Suddenly we’re eye to eye. Eye to eye, soul to soul. I gaze long and hard into those bright blue eyes that trap me in the lock of his gaze. I feel I must have reached something inside him when his grip around my hands loosen, although he keeps my hands pinned above my head.
Fear, shock, anxiety, and curiosity roil inside me like a tempestuous storm and as my captor gazes down at me I’m not sure what to feel.
He lets go of my wrists, but I don’t get the fleeting second it would take to acknowledge freedom from his restraint as his fingers brush over the bare skin of my stomach.
That part wasn’t intentional, but … what is, is the linger of his thumb on the edge of my hip bone.
Tristan breaks the lock of our stare to scan over my body. The gown is just covering my breasts and half of my stomach. The struggle made the thing ride right up to my back so what he’s looking at is my nakedness from my waist down.
A different type of fear races through my mind as he continues to stare at my pussy, and I remain perfectly still.
What if he rapes me?
Men like him do things like that. I don’t know him and so far, I’ve said all the wrong things. I’ve done all the wrong things and I haven’t given him what he wanted.
He could take something else from me. Punish me in a different way. As I watch him looking down at my pussy, his fingers hovering over my skin, true fear closes up my throat. I don’t know if I could survive if he did something like that to me. It would break me.
When his gaze climbs back up to meet mine, the desire I see brimming within his eyes eradicates the fear of being raped. At least momentarily. I’m not fool enough to push it aside completely. That desire I’m seeing though confuses the hell out of me.
I’ve been raised to watch. To observe. It’s what you do when you’re the daughter of a notorious criminal who treats you like property. You don’t have time for shit because one minute to the next could be the end for you. So, when I see, I see all, and as this man who’s kidnapped me looks at me, what I see is raw desire. Wanting, longing, and I know the same attraction that assails me has him too.
A moment passes when all we do is look at each other. A moment of light and understanding where the chemical bonds that draw us together start to spark.
Then he blinks, and just like that it’s gone.
Gone and replaced by something else inside him I fully recognize. I see that unhinged look in my own eyes every time I look in the mirror.
Now that he’s not smiling, I can see quite clearly what that thing is. Pain.
Pain from being broken deep inside. The type of broken that can only come from loss. Grief. Grief from the loss of someone he loved.
The second I think it he moves away from me, and I wonder who my father killed for him.
Who did Dad kill?
Someone died and it’s exactly like he said. Death is the end. Nothing is worse than that. That’s what this is about. Tristan wants to know where my father is because he wants to kill him.
My awareness returns to me and with it the gravity of the situation. He used me and made a complete fool out of me. I actually liked him. That’s the only reason why my body is still reacting to him.
I will not feel sorry for him. He’s kidnapped me and brought me to this place. The thought makes me sit up and pull down the gown to cover myself up.
“I’m going to give you some time to think,” he says cutting into the thick silence. “It seems like you might need it. If I were you, I would think long and hard about that answer of yours.”
I don’t bother to tell him my answer will still be the same. I have no idea where my father is. I do want to know one thing though even if it gets me in more trouble.
“Why did you bother to wear that mask?” I ask as he takes a step to leave. He stops and looks at me.
“What are you talking about?” he snaps, glaring at me.
“The mask of a man who seems to care. That’s what you looked like in the park the other day. Why did you even bother to talk to me? You didn’t need to. I get why you couldn’t take me in the park though. Too risky. Especially with my guard at the door. My father would have had men on you in seconds. You wouldn’t have had a chance. But there was the club. You could have just led me away when I came up to find you. The whole night was so easy.” My cheeks burn with embarrassment when I think back to how I behaved with him. “I acted enough like a slut to make it simple for you. You didn’t have to kiss me or make me feel for you. I hate you for that.”