She was lying, but she needed time. Enough to sit on the lid and think things through clearly and work out what her next move should be. The thought of his dark eyes staring at her as she did her business made her cheeks burn with discomfiture. She really didn’t want him watching.
“I’ve seen it all before, sweetheart, so go ahead and do your thing.” She almost expected him to wink.
“Fuck you.” The words escaped her mouth before she could swallow them down, sounding strange to her ears. She knew she needed to control her anger, but it felt so much better than fear.
“Maybe later.” He scanned her body with amused eyes. “For now I’ll settle for watching you go.”
Was it wrong that his words excited her? Despite his reasons for being there, he was still the best looking guy she’d seen in a year. She hadn’t been touched in all that time, not the way she wanted him to touch her now. Christ, this was so fucked up.
Walking across the grimy, tiled floor, she could feel her bladder weighing heavy on her abdomen. She’d never make it more than a few miles on the bumpy roads without having an accident. Measuring up the embarrassment of going in front of him against the shame of pissing herself in his car, the shame won out.
“Fine, enjoy the show. Just try not to stare too hard.” She pulled the door open so hard the whole frame vibrated. She took a deep breath and bit down on her rising fury, concentrating on riling him instead. Turning so she was facing forward, she pushed her chest out, her feet slightly parted. Slowly and deliberately, she began to unfasten the top button of her jeans.
Murphy was only a few feet away. His narrowed eyes locked on her fly, watching as she eased down the zipper. His breathing slowed until it was a stilted mess, and she found herself a little breathless too, liking his reaction. She couldn’t help but feel a small victory, knowing she’d found a weak spot. Now she had to work out how to use it.
He still wanted her; that much was clear. She’d been wondering if his flirting had all been a setup, and maybe it had, but the way he was looking at her through hooded eyes was enough to know the attraction between them was mutual. There was a buzz in the air, like the way the atmosphere crackled before a storm, and Rachel wondered if she could use it to her advantage.
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and wriggled her hips from side to side in an exaggerated motion. Easing the denim over her ass until the fabric loosened, she pushed them down past her knees, letting the fabric bunch around her calves. Cool air bathed her exposed skin.
She lingered for a moment, letting Murphy drink in the view before pulling her panties down too, baring herself before him. She watched his eyes darken at the sight.
Heat burned in her belly like a ball of fire. This was a dangerous game, but her body didn’t seem to be getting the message. Murphy couldn’t drag his eyes away, his stare piercing as she laid herself bare. A surge of euphoria washed through her body. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be able to use her sexuality, to ward off fear with seduction. It wasn’t that she used sex as a weapon as much as a shield, like a buffer between the hunter and hunted. During her time in Boston, her acquiescence wasn’t a weakness, it was her strength, and if she enjoyed the sense of power it gave her right now, then she’d take it. She was hardwired to survive, no matter how tired she got of fighting.
But there was something about him, some signal he was giving off, that made her think he wanted this. A shadow behind his eye, maybe, or the way his lip curled up at the corner. It wasn’t just that he was good looking, though that was enough to make her burn. It was more than that. He had a hard edge to him, but there was softness as well. She wanted him on her side.
That was where her seduction would have to end, for now. There was nothing elegant about squatting over the toilet seat and pissing in front of a total stranger. But even that action kept his rapt attention, and only when she wiped herself and turned to flush did he snap back to reality.
After zipping herself back up, she brushed past him and walked to the bank of sinks, twisting the tap and liberally pouring soap on her open palm. Her nose wrinkled at the whiff of antiseptic, the aroma cloying in her airways and itching at her throat.
“Do you need to go?” she asked as she dried her hands on the rolling towel. Her voice sounded breathless, stretched way too thin.
Murphy walked toward her, stopping only when their bodies were inches apart. She could feel the heat of his skin wash over her. The pounding of her heart had nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with the need to bang the ever-loving hell out of him. Her brain needed to send her body a memo. Tell it to get with the program.
Murphy scanned her curves with his deep green eyes, his gaze lingering on her jeans. Confusion marred his face, tugging at his brow and pulling at his lips. He looked like a child who’d been told Santa didn’t exist. “I saw the scars on your leg, Lucy.” There was a softness again, something deep behind his gaze she found hard to define. He shook his head like he was trying to forget something painful.
“It’s Rachel.” If he called her Lucy again, she’d go insane. She needed to cling on to something from her present, even if it was only her assumed name.
He continued like he hadn’t heard her. “How did you get them?” His voice was thick and gruff, like he was trying not to show any emotion. Something about the way he said it touched her.
“He tied me up with wire.” She tried to keep her tone conversational, not wanting to seem overly-dramatic. It was easier to pretend she was talking about somebody else this way. “David went out to work and left me lying there. I struggled a little, and the wire bit into my skin. It got infected—otherwise, I don’t think the scars would be so bad.” Panic started to rise up through her throat again, and she swallowed it down before it could steal her breath. She hated the way her memories made her feel so vulnerable.
Murphy swallowed hard. “He did this on purpose?” His voice had an edge of disbelief to it, but she wasn’t sure if it was aimed at her words or David’s actions.
She tried to reply but the words wanted to remain buried. She willed her tongue to form them and her larynx to bring them to life. It was some moments before she finally managed to croak them out. “He liked to watch me bleed.”
“Fuck!” Murphy slammed the palm of his hand against the tiled wall, and the sudden violence of his action made her jump. He pulled his hand back, shaking out the pain, still muttering oaths beneath his breath. When he brought his gaze back to her face, there was a look of anger and betrayal in his expression that made her shiver. His barely suppressed fury scared the hell out of her.
He stared at her for a long minute like she was crazy, and his eyes flashed like a battle was being waged behind them. Maybe it was wishful thinking or a misplaced sense of justice, but a small part of her hoped he was beginning to believe what she was saying. He rolled his shoulders and let his face turn blank. “We need to get out of here.” He gestured for her to join him in the stall. She looked up at his jaw, his stubble shadowy and dark in the dim light of the bathroom. “I was going to tie you up while I did this.” He squeezed his body behind her into the cubicle. “But I guess you might not like that too much.”
Rachel licked her lips, noticing for the first time he was taking her feelings into account. Perhaps there was a part of him that was starting to see the truth.
Her head shifted up to look at him and she pulled her eyebrows together, frowning slightly. “I used to love being tied up.” Her voice was soft. “Until I met that twisted asshole.”
Murphy’s breath hitched. Somewhere in the messed up atmosphere, Rachel felt the balance of power shift toward her, and it thrilled her. Suddenly, her shield had become her weapon. She decided to push her luck, glancing down at his crotch. “Would you like me to hold it for you?”
His bark of laughter was genuine and his grin crooked. Tension seeped out of him like air from a pierced balloon. “As I said before—maybe later, sweetheart. In the meantime, try not to drool.”
She shrugged. “Your loss.”