Page 164

Did Mark deserve it? Absolutely. But I was at his house. I was someone on his radar. And now that he’s dead, what if they come for me?

Shit. You really are an idiot, Addie.

I rest my elbows on my knees and slump my head into my hands. My thoughts are spiraling out of control.

Who cares if it happened to be the most mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had in my life? And probably will ever have. The dude is just as crazy as the girl on screen.

He’s killed before, and he’s obviously going to do it again, and what if he tries to take out the goddamn President next? Or someone else with connections to some very unhinged people?

I just don’t think I’m okay with that. I look up at the screen again, a news reporter standing in front of flashing siren lights at Satan's Affair.

I’m just not okay with this. With the fear that some terrifying people are going to come after me because Zade keeps killing off high-profile people. He’s a goddamn serial killer.

I need to end things with him. For good.

It doesn’t matter what he makes me feel. He’s going to put my life in danger, over and over. And how does someone just… be okay with that?

I’m rocking in Gigi's old chair when a flash of movement outside my window catches my eye. My heart skips several beats when I find my shadow standing on the other side, several feet away with that damn red cherry blaring in the night.

Fuck. He’s here.

He’s not going to listen to reason when I tell him to leave me alone. He never did before, it won't be any different now. I need to figure out how the hell to get him away from me permanently. Maybe I'll look into that bodyguard Daya spoke about before.

But right now, the only thing I can do is call the police. They'll be here quick if I lie and say I'm in serious danger, and in the meantime, I'll try to convince him to leave.

Adrenaline and a heady mix of fear trickles into my bloodstream as I scramble up and away from the window and look for my phone.

Looking around frantically, I tear apart the living room in search of my phone. My heart is pounding, the sound resonating in my ears as my breath draws short and choppy.

It takes several minutes before I finally find my phone lodged beneath a couch cushion. When I straighten and glance out the window, I finally do freeze.

He’s gone.

Oh my fuck, where did he go?

Hands trembling, I dial in the numbers. 9-1-. I feel his presence press into my back a moment before he plucks the phone from my hand. My breath hitches as he clears the numbers, and the phone disappears from view.

His breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “Were you about to call the police on me?” he tsks. “And here I thought we were past this.”

My breath stutters. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Zade. I-I don’t want you.”

His quiet breathing is swallowed by the news reporter droning on in the background.

Finally, he says, “When did you become such a liar?”

Closing my eyes, I take a steadying breath. And then I lift my leg and stomp on his foot as hard as I can. He grunts, but before I can make a run for it, his arms encircle my waist and trap me against him.

“That’s very naughty, little mouse. And you know what happens when you’re naughty?” A heartbeat passes before he finally growls into my ear, “You get fucking eaten.”

Fire licks at my insides, igniting my entire being from the inside out. His words cause an elicit hunger to claw its way down from my throat, through my stomach, and straight to the sensitive spot between my legs.

But I will not give in so easily. I will not let this man continue to get inside my head—my body.

“I’m not your fucking prey.”

“Then why do you let me consume you?” he whispers before encircling his hand around my throat and squeezing tight. Stubble pierces my skin as his cheek rubs down the side of my own before his mouth descends on my neck. A sharp nip pulls a gasp from my lips.

His hand tightens further while my breath shortens. Words rise to my tongue, but they fail to release when a low growl vibrates from his chest, and throughout my body.