Wrong For Me

Tears instantly spring in my eyes, but before I can slam my own damn door, I’m being shoved through the entrance and pushed against the wall.

I gasp as Alec smashes his heated body into my nearly naked one, not a space to breathe between us.

He’s furious, his face hard, and before I know it, his lips roughly take mine.

A feral moan is forced from me, and my legs give way, but his large frame is there to hold me up.

With a deep growl, he rolls his hard-on against me, dry-fucking me for a few moments. Then, he yanks back, making me gasp for air I don’t want but need.

“Do you fucking feel this?” he hisses against my mouth, his dick pushing on my clit. “This is all for you. Every fucking inch of it.”

He steps back, and I slide down the wall a little.

I meet his glare, but I’m too dizzy to match it.

“You realize what your stunt has done?” He tilts his head, my eyes following his hand as he grips himself. “This is for fucking you, Oakley … and now, I’ve gotta go use it on her.”

My eyes fly to his.

“Don’t start a fire you can’t douse, princess.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” I fume, tears of anger and hurt slipping. “I’m not your princess.”

He hangs his head and steps for the door, but before he walks out, his tortured gaze hits mine once more. “You’re right. You’re not my princess.” He takes a deep breath, his splintered stare scanning over every inch of my face. “You’re my fucking queen.”

And then he’s gone, and my ass hits the carpet.

I hate him.

I hate everything about him.

Most of all, I hate that I can’t convince myself that it’s true.

I bang my head against the wall before dropping it into my palms, but as I do, my attention is caught by the shine of gold against black—the Blaze logo.

I drop my arms, and I look to where my gym bag sits just inside my closet. I grab the sweater I tossed by my door earlier and pull it over my head.

A deep crease forms across my forehead as I crawl across the floor, stopping to sit right in front of it.

My hands shake as I slide the zipper open and slowly pull the small pile out.

Fear and uncertainty have me pausing.

What could possibly be in these folders that would have caused my dad to change the password to his safe before he left?

And why the hell would he have changed it to numbers that correspond to letters that spell out MARISSA?

With a deep breath, I flip open the first tab.Chapter Thirty-OneAlecI slam the door shut and stride over to the dresser.

I should have fucking followed my gut, but I had to play it cool, just to be on the safe side, until I had some answers. Answers I still don’t have.

I know my wife … and she’s not the sharing kind.

“Lie back on the bed, Marissa,” I demand, pretending to take off my watch as I slip my hand in the drawer, but before I can get my fingers inside, the chill of cold metal hits the back of my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

Fuck.

I fucking knew it.

“Don’t bother trying to get your hand in there. The knife’s gone. So is the gun that was taped to the bottom of the nightstand, the bat that was just casually lying in the closet, and sad you didn’t notice, but the glass has been removed from all the frames on the walls.” The familiar click rings when she cocks the gun, letting me know that she’s ready to go at any moment. “You’ve really slipped, dear husband. Now”—the metal leaves my skull—“walk over to the far-left corner, turn to face me, and plant your hands against it.”

I do as she says.

When I face her, she grins, shifting the gun to rub at her temple. I glance from it to her.

She smiles wider and inspects it herself. “Found it in your whore’s room along with a few other hidden weapons. Gotta say, took me all week to go through the house with the metal detectors. Seems Trick Rivera and his skanky daughter were quite paranoid.” Her eyes narrow. “Any idea why they’d be so paranoid?”

I drop my head back against the wall, keeping my face blank. “How ’bout you tell me what you think you know, and we go from there?”

She wrinkles her nose, shaking her head back and forth. “That’s not going to work for me, baby. See, I don’t have much time.”

My brows dip, and she laughs lightly.

“Daddy is on his way, and he’s reeeal mad at you. But don’t worry; I won’t let him touch you. I’ve already told him that you’re mine to do with as I please.” Her stare hardens, and the devil’s daughter shows herself. “The whore though is his to keep. I promised to let her live. Personally, I think it’s a bit dirty that he wants the body of the girl his daughter’s husband has been inside, but that’s his choice.”