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Her eyes narrow as she sucks in a breath, and I can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. I nearly let out a sigh of relief.Anger I can deal with.The thought almost makes me smile.
“Let me out,” she says although her eyes flicker down and her voice wavers with the demand.
“I can’t do that if you’re going to run.”
“Just let me go, Mason,” she pleads with a soft whimper. She licks her lips and attempts to push herself upright. Jules winces from the binds cutting into her wrists, and I can’t fucking stand it.
My hands ball into fists, but I stay put. I can’t risk her trying to escape.
“You need to stay here, with me, until we figure this out,” I say to her in a placating tone as I step forward, rounding the bed to get closer to her. Her breathing quickens and I’m not sure if it’s due to anger or fear from me getting closer to her. My blood runs cold at the second possibility.
“We need to talk about this,” I tell her gently as I sit down carefully and attempt to ease whatever worry I can. I don’t want to tell her anything, and everything in me is screaming to lie and let it all be forgotten. But she’s mine, and I won’t do that to her. It was one thing to withhold the truth about the past, but it’s another to outright lie about it.
She should know the truth, even if she doesn’t like it.
“Ask me anything.” My gaze is struck by hers as I speak. Her baby blues are rimmed in red, and her cheeks tearstained. She’s gorgeous even like this, but not when she misbehaves. She presses her lips into a thin line, even though the bottom one trembles, and shakes her head. It seems fear is the dominant emotion. A vise tightens over my chest.
I look past her as the thick gray velvet curtain sways slightly when the heater turns on with a click. I watch it for a moment, steadying my breath and quickly come up with a solution.
“For every question,” I start to say and then pause to look back at her. She’s wary and when she realizes I’m offering hersomething, her entire body noticeably stiffens. “Every question you ask, I’ll answer you honestly and untie you a bit.”
It’s not the best solution, seeing as how there are only four knots total keeping the rope in place. One on each wrist, and two tying her to the bed.
“You can’t fight me, Jules.” I harden my voice just before she can answer. “I’ll let you go, but I won’t let you run. Do you understand?”
She swallows and then licks her lips. “Yes,” she says, the answer just above a murmur. I can tell it hurts her to speak at all, because she withdraws the moment the word slips into the tense air between us, a look of pain evident on her face.
She needs tea and to be held. She needs a gentle hand.
The bed groans as I sit, resting my hand on her bare thigh. Like a good girl she doesn’t move, but she does close her eyes as if she can’t stand my touch. I gently rub my thumb in soothing circles and I stare down at where our skin meets as I wait for her.
She’ll forgive me, I know she will. It’s only a matter of time and I’ll let her lead. But only if she moves in the right direction. Closer to the two of us regaining what we had only hours ago. I just need time and given the fact my development company is now dissolved, I have plenty of it.
“Why did you do it?” she asks.
My head lifts at her question, and I meet her gaze head-on. There’s nothing but sadness in those gorgeous doe eyes. “He was responsible for a woman’s death.”
Before I’ve even finished saying the words, she’s already shaking her head. Already in denial. “No, I don’t believe you.” Her voice cracks, a telltale sign of her refusal to accept the truth as she rips her gaze from me and stares straight ahead at the door.
“I’m not lying to you, Jules.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice tender, thinking back on what came over me when I decided Jace Anderson deserved to die.
“You lied,” she practically hisses at me, taking me by surprise. She screams with outrage, “You’re a liar!”
“I never lied to you,” I answer evenly, correcting her and ignoring her outburst while I tighten my grip on the edge of the bed. I have to wait a moment for her to calm down before reaching up and slowly untying the knot on her left wrist. A deal is a deal. Even if I fucking hate her response. Her tender skin is bright pink, and it makes my chest feel tight with guilt. I never wanted to hurt her. Never. I retake my seat as she whispers, “You didn’t tell the truth.”
My throat dries and a rawness takes over, dampening every nerve ending along my skin. I don’t have many memories of my mother, but the ones I do, the ones that are clear, are the ones where she calls my father a liar. The images flash in front of me, and my body goes cold. “I’m not a liar. I did what I had to do.”
“I could never do what you did,” she says.
Everyone can kill.I keep the thought to myself, hating how true it is. It’s only a matter of what would push someone to do it.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“Are you going to kill me?” she asks as if it’s a real possibility. Her breathing is hesitant and then hitches when she closes her eyes tight.
Waiting for those doe eyes to look back at me, desperate for an answer, the one word I give her is filled with a promise. “Never.” It makes my heart hurt that she thinks it’s even an option. “I told you I’d never hurt you.” Of all the things today that have me on edge, that right there is the most distressing. The thought in her head that I’m someone who would hurt her is unacceptable.
My hand rests gently against her thigh and she’s quick to pull away, as if I’ve scorched her skin. I still at the sobering sight of her.