Take (Deliver 5)

“Kate, wait—”

He disconnected the call and pocketed the phone, monitoring her expression.

The facade she’d maintained for Liv gave way to a heartbroken stare and hunched shoulders.

“She’ll worry. They all will.” She inched backward in the direction of the exit. “But they won’t look for me.”

He let her continue her tentative retreat through the doorway, holding her teary gaze until she turned away in the corridor. When his ears perked to the soft, distressed sounds she tried to swallow down, he stalked after her.

“Kate.” He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest.

She paused in the hallway with her back to him, her posture curling in on itself. The call to her friend marked the point of no return. A decision that would haunt her until she died.

She made a deal with the devil, and in the end, the devil always won.

“You wanted two promises from me.” He rested a hand in his pocket and touched the finger blade. “The one you chose guarantees Tate’s freedom while sentencing you to a lifetime in captivity. Or worse. Nothing is stopping me from killing you and hiding your body. Your friends will be none the wiser.”

“I know.” Her rigid back contracted with the heave of her breaths.

“That was your second request, the promise you didn’t choose. You wanted my word to keep you alive after the phone call.”

“Yes.”

She didn’t beg or cower. Didn’t turn around to see if death was coming. Instead, she placed one foot before the other, eyes forward, and slowly walked to her room.

From his stance in the doorway, he watched her crawl onto the mattress and curl up on her side. With a strange pinch in his chest, he closed the door to his room and locked it.

Tomorrow, he would release her from the confinement of the second floor.

But she would never be free.

If she tried to run, he would kill her.The next day, Tiago woke before dawn with a sense of levity pulling at his lips. The pounding in his head had abated. His vision was clear. No signs of dizziness. For the first time in a month, he didn’t feel like an invalid.

More than that, he had something to entice him out of bed. Something beyond the obligations of running a criminal organization.

His gaze clung to the door as he rose to his feet and stretched. Was she still asleep?

He envisioned all that golden hair fanned out around her serene face. As he showered and groomed, he imagined what her fair skin and angelic blue eyes would look like in the daylight.

By the time he slipped on his boots and stepped into the hall, he was starving for a glimpse of her.

The sun had just risen, spilling faint light into the antechamber, where he found Kate on the bed. Not asleep.

The mattress sat on the floor, and she knelt at the end of it. With her back to him, her hair fell in wet tangles from a recent shower.

“Come on, dammit.” She bent over her knees, scrubbing the bed with a towel. “Fucking shit.”

He prowled closer, craning his neck to see around her. “What are you doing?”

Her hands froze, and her head shot up. She didn’t glance back or meet his eyes as he moved to stand beside her.

She returned her attention to the bare mattress and the red spot at the center, working the towel over the blotch. All her huffing and rubbing only made the stain worse.

“What happened?”

“What’s it look like?” She threw the ruined towel aside. “I started my period.”

“Is this the first time?”

She shot him a bland look.

His groin tightened. Her bitchiness did nothing to negate how goddamn striking her eyes looked in the sunlight. Iridescent shades of blue glimmered beneath long, thick lashes. As he continued to stare, her delicate nose twitched, and her full, pouty lips curved downward.

“Answer the question.” He strode to the doorless bathroom and checked the supplies. Shampoo, soap, toothpaste, toilet paper…

She climbed to her feet, watching him rummage through the shit under the sink. “This is my first period since I’ve been here.”

It had been a lifetime since he’d given any thought to a woman’s cycle. “You’ve been here for…”

“Thirty-six days.” She blew out a breath. “Stress fucks with the body, in case you didn’t know.”

Boones would’ve prepared for this, though he’d done a piss poor job of dressing her. She wore another one of those strapless rags, the linen thin enough to reveal the dusky color of her nipples. The style had been practical when her arms were bound, but Christ.

He forced his gaze away, irritated by the distraction.

“We’ll eat downstairs.” He headed to the door and removed the key from his pocket. “You’re free to explore the house and grounds.”

Her eyes bulged, her whisper a halting, disbelieving exhale. “Really?”

“If you try to run or attack anyone here, you’ll pray for death long before I’m through with you. Get me?”