Page 21

But my feet are already moving as I rush back to the bedroom, hastily pulling on my boots. It sounds too good to be true, that he’ll let me go, but the thought of freedom propels me forward.

Armed once again with my makeshift weapon, I return to the living room. I needn’t have bothered. Rocky remains bent over his tablet, his back now fully turned.

Thesight of the tattoo on his back stops me short. Not fully hidden by the thin tank top, it spreads from one muscled shoulder to the other and from the looks of it, likely extends to his waist.

It’s a black weathered skull with what looks like an intricate knot on its forehead. An emerald gem sits within the knot, its hue matching the molten green flames oozing from the skull’s sockets.

It’s eerie. Alive. Like the tattoo is emerging from his core rather than sitting on his skin.

I shake myself out of the daze and hurry toward the gleaming oak door.

Rocky’s voice stops me cold. “Use the smaller elevator. Code’s 162. You’ll avoid the lobby that way.”

His casual dismissal this morning somehow manages to be more irritating than his aggression last night.

Also, something doesn’t add up. Rocky went out of his way to drug and kidnap me because I wouldn’t follow him, and now he’s acting like I’m an inconvenience he can’t wait to get out of his tousled hair?

The man was staring into my soul last night, and now he’s not even bothered to spare me another glance?

Why?

Because he got what he wanted.

The thought chills me, and again, I run my hand along my neck and the crooks of my elbows, searching for puncture marks.

“Why did you take me last night, Rocky?”

He finally pushes the tablet aside and turns to face me. “That’s a good question, princess,” his tone is mocking. “It would seem I had nothing better to do than play hero to thick damsels who like to gorge on drugs.”

Theinsult lands like a blow. I reel back, stunned by the venom in his words. “Excuse me?”

“You were drugged last night. Eduardo—the man you were . . .” his mouth twists into a derisive sneer, “using to get my attention—slipped something in your drink.”

I blink, ignoring the jibe and processing the information. Eduardo with his charming smile, the casual way he handed me drinks. He seemed so normal, so harmless. Until I started to feel sick. And then Delilah . . .Oh God, is she okay?

As if reading my thoughts, Rocky adds, “He didn’t drug your friend, in case you were wondering. He only targeted you.”

“Okay.” I fold my arms, fighting to keep my voice steady. “And so you just . . . what? Figured you’d swoop in and save me?”

Rocky’s expression doesn’t change as he leans back in his chair. “I know, idiotic, right? My apologies,” he drawls, not sounding sorry at all.

“You stuck a fucking needle in my neck!”

He shrugs. “There wasn’t time to ask how you preferred to get knocked out.”

I take a calming breath when all I want to do is slap the smug out of him. I need information, and to get it out of this brute, I can’t afford to lose my cool.

“And what exactly did you do with the blood you drew from me?”

For the first time, his expression shifts, his brows arching almost comically and his full lips curving into a smirk. “Your blood, huh? That’s next-level fuckery, princess. Even for me.”

The sharp edge of the makeshift weapon bites into my palm as my hand fists around it. The audacity of this man, to act so blasé afterwhat he did.

“Is it, though?” I snarl. “I know my father hired you to bleed me. And I know you’re a flesh peddler. A disgusting predator who would do anything for the next buck. Now I demand—”

The words die in my throat as Rocky moves. One moment he’s across the room, the next I’m pinned against the door. His hand snaps my wrist high above my head, holding it against the unyielding wood. The shard slips from my grasp, shattering on the floor.

I barely register the pain in my wrist beyond the rage surging through me from his manhandling.