Page 43 of Cruel Possession

“I have business to take care of, and I’ve decided that I no longer trust you around my family. So, you can either go take a shower and do whatever it is you think you need to do to get yourself ready to go within an hour, or you go dressed like that.”

Zoe looks at me like she’s not quite sure whether I’m serious or not before she gets up from the bed and knocks into me. When her warm, brown eyes meet mine, time seems to stand still.

There’s no hatred there.

There’s a whole lot of not trusting me the way she once used to, but she looks exhausted.

And maybe there’s a tiny twinge of guilt way deep down, one that makes me think that maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her so far.

Or maybe I should’ve given her more orgasms. I could’ve kept her quaking and wanting me.

Now, I’m going to spend the rest of the night wondering if she’s going to plunge a knife into my back.

Zoe disappears into the bathroom and a few minutes later, the shower starts running.

I strip down the bed and change the sheets. I need something to keep my hands busy while she’s in there; otherwise, I’m going to give in to the little voice in the back of my head telling me to go in there and join her.

When she comes back out, her hair is hanging in loose waves down her back, and there’s a flush to her cheeks. She stands with the towel wrapped tight around her body, showing off her curves, the material barely hitting the bottom of the curve of her ass.

Maybe staying in would be a better idea.

“Where are my clothes?”

I head over to the closet, pulling the door open and stepping to the side.

She presses her lips together and passes me, stepping into the closet and then slamming the door shut behind her.

Zoe steps out of the closet a couple of minutes later. “I don’t see why you even want me to be there with you.”

The dress she wears has a neckline that goes up to her collarbone, but there’s barely a back, and a deep sheer panel runs straight from her neck down to just below her belly button, tapering in at the end.

Taking her to the club tonight is a horrible idea.

“I want the other women there to leave me alone.” I figure it’s better to tell her the truth.

“You want to use me as a cockblock?” Her eyebrows rise, and she puts her hands on her hips.

I shrug, stepping into the closet. “If that’s what you want to call it, then sure. You and I both know that the people there aren’t going to take a second look at me with you there.”

“And if my family sees me stepping out with you? That’s a fucking hit on my head.”

I finish tucking my shirt into my pants. “The way I see it, you already have one, so you may as well have a night out. And if you behave yourself, you might even get some freedom in the house.”

“You have to sneak me in and out.”

I open one of my drawers and pull out a black mask that’ll cover the upper half of her face. “Wear this. Nobody is going to think twice.”

She purses her lips but takes the mask with a nod, heading to the hair dryer I have in the bathroom. “If I die tonight, the blood is going to be on your hands.”

“The blood is on my hands one way or another.”

She’s right. They’re all right.

At the end of this, I’m either going to kill her, or someone else is.

There’s not a world in which Zoe is still alive.

And why the fuck does that bother me so much?