Page 15

“I’m not hungry,” she blurts before I have the chance to say anything.
“You haven’t eaten in twelve hours.”
“I’m not hungry,” she repeats, more firmly this time.
I set the tray on the coffee table anyway. “You need to eat something.”
“What I need is to go home.”
“That’s not an option right now.”
She unfolds herself from the bed and stands, and there’s something different in her posture—less fear and more anger, like she’s decided cowering isn’t going to get her anywhere. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
“As long as it takes.”
She lets out a genuine snarl of anger and frustration. “As long as what takes? You’ve asked me the same questions a dozen times, and my answers haven’t changed. I’m not this Irina woman. I don’t know anything about your brother or whatever information she supposedly stole. I’m nobody important.”
I move closer, drawn by the fire in her voice despite every instinct telling me to maintain distance. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be nobody.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and the moment they’re in the air between us, I realize how dangerous they are. They reveal far too much about what’s really happening here.
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see her trying to process what I just said. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
“You kidnapped me because you thought I was someone else, and now you’re keeping me here because you don’t want me to be nobody? Do you realize how crazy that sounds?”
“Yes.”
My honesty seems to catch her off guard. She was expecting denials or deflection, not an admission that this whole situation has spiraled beyond anything that could be considered rational.
“Then let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Because you’ve seen too much. Because you know where we are and who we are and what we’re capable of. Because in my world, loose ends get people killed, and you’re the biggest loose end I’ve ever created.
I don’t say any of that. Instead, I step close enough that I can see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes and smell the faint scent of the expensive soap from her bathroom. “I don’t trust myself to let you walk away.”
Something flickers in her expression. It’s surprise, maybe, or recognition of the attraction that’s been building between us despite the circumstances. She doesn’t step back, even though she should. Every survival instinct she has should be screaming at her to put distance between us. “You’re afraid I’ll go to the police.”
“No.” I reach up and touch her cheek, and she flinches but doesn’t pull away. “I’m afraid I’ll never see you again.”
She stares at me with wide eyes, her breathing shallow, and I can see her pulse hammering at the base of her throat.
I lean closer, drawn by something I don’t understand and can’t control. Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, I think she might let me kiss her. For a moment, I think she wants me to.
Then reality crashes over me.
If she’s Irina, my plans for her ultimately include killing her for what she did to my brother. If she’s really Sabrina, she’s innocent and doesn’t deserve to be dragged into my violent world.
Either way, this can’t happen.
I jerk back like I’ve been burned and turn toward the door. “Eat the food.”