Crowned by Hate (Crowned 1) - Page 24

Bryant looks to Jerry. “I wouldn’t bring her here if it weren’t secure, and this is my kingdom.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes onto Jerry. This could go one or two different ways. I’m really hoping it heads toward the way I need, because I couldn’t deal with the two men whom I spend most of my time with fighting at my every turn. “But I appreciate you looking out.” I let out a long, but silent exhale.

Bryant gestures to the front doors. “Shall we?”

I fight an eye roll to show my enthusiasm. This better not be a long night.

The milky soap suds drip off my body as the steam from the shower fogs the glass. I’ve been in here for ten minutes. I’m usually a long shower person so it won’t be out of the ordinary for Bryant, not that we’ve been together long enough for him to make any sort of assumptions in regards to shower time. For all he knows, I’m a quick shower taker. Or maybe, I’m one of those people who sometimes has a quick shower, or sometimes has a long shower. Regardless, I’m in here. With my passport and credit card hidden under my towel that’s sitting on the bathroom counter, so far, my plan is going well. Now, all I have to do is get out of this apartment without waking Bryant or by alerting Jerry next door. Admittedly, Jerry and the MIB’s have laid back a lot since we’ve been here, probably because of their knowledge of Bryant. Hitting the faucet on the shower, I get out, wrapping the towel around me. Drying up in record time, I stop all movements. What is the possibility of Bryant trying to fuck with me tonight?—bang.

“Isa!”

Shit. Shit.

I silently clear my throat. “Won’t be long.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. My tone was a little too cheerful. Usually, I probably would have told him to fucking wait.

“I’m going for a run.”

My eyes almost pop out of their sockets, I’m that shocked at how perfect his timing is. I can’t act happy though, I need to be careful. Be Isa.

“Sure thing!” I call out, and then it’s silent.

My paranoia begins to eat at the surface of my fears, so if I’m doing this, it needs to happen now. I won’t get this prime opportunity again.

Slipping into my nightie like I had planned, I shove my passport and Visa into the side of my G-string and then fluff my nightie back over it. Running a brush through my hair, I tie it into a high messy bun before yanking the door open. Pausing in the doorway, I listen for any clues or sounds. Satisfied with the fact that Bryant has gone, I walk out with a smirk on my face. I’m about to be free, free as a bird—A hand flies to my throat and clenches tightly, shoving me up against the wall.

8

Gasping for air, I tap at Bryant’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. The room is dark, silent and eerie, and all I can hear is Bryant’s deep inhale of breaths.

He squeezes tightly again, then growls over my neck, “Give me three reasons why I shouldn’t kill you.” He eases his grip, just enough to allow some air. “You have ten seconds.”

“Ah,” I begin after a quick throat clear.

“Ten.” His knee comes between my legs, spreading them apart.

“You’d have to dispose of my body.”

“I own a pig farm. Seven.”

Fuck! Wait, does he really own a pig farm? “—six.” His thigh presses hard against me. Focus. “You like my dad.”

“I’d like you dead more.” He cups my breast with one hand and squeezes while bringing his lips to the center of my neck. “Four,” he whispers against my skin. I swallow.

Fuck. Think, Isa. Think. “Because I promise I’ll play wife for you and do as you want.”

I feel his grin spread out over my skin and I quite honestly have to fight the urge to knee him in the nuts. He bites my neck. “Get on your knees.”

I do as I’m told, dropping to my knees in front of him. He wraps my hair around his fist before yanking my head back so I’m looking up at him. Completely submissive, and whole-heartedly his toy. “Remove your clothes.” Again, I do as I’m told. Pulling at the sash that was tied tightly around my waist. Keeping my eyes on his, I feel the silk unlatch from my body and drop to a heap around my knees. Now I’m in nothing but my G-string with my passport and visa tucked into the sides.

Oopsie.

His eyes drop to the passport before he grips both items and throws them across the room. “You try that shit again, and I’ll kill you.”

9

“Deep breaths, Isa. It’s going to be fine,” Lydia coos, fluffing over my dress. She’s so fucking wrong that it’s almost funny. Almost because I don’t find it amusing at all. Since moving in with Bryant, everything has been at full speed. Hard to believe that it was just a week ago when I got caught attempting to run. Yeah, that turned out really great. The only running I have done was the running of a cold bath after he spanked my ass so hard I couldn’t sit down for days.

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