Page 90 of Deadly Knight

A day in exchange for freedom. What’s so bad about a few hours after the past two weeks? “Then you’ll take me home?”

His hesitation tells me everything—he’ll fight me from here to the airport. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Fine. Butonlytwenty-four hours, and they start this second.”

“I’ll agree to that, if you agree to one more thing. From now until the end of the twenty-four hours, I want the absolute truth from you. No matter how hard it gets, do not lie.”

To be asked this likely means there will be a time Iwantto. But I find myself once again agreeing to his request, his smile gentle with gratitude and his eyes flickering with a new emotion. That’s when I realize what position we’re still in.

“C-can you get off me?”

His eyes widen a fraction and he obeys immediately, scrambling to his feet. He went from looking at me like I was lunch to looking at me like I’m a stranger. His palm rubs over his face twice, his tone gruff when he utters, “I’ll be in the hall. Meet me there. Please. Shower, dress, do whatever you need to.” He’s gone before my brain processes what he’s said.

Once the door shuts, I slide from the bed, trying not to look at it or think about the fact he held me last night. Or that it was my best sleep in a long time. Heart and body, they knew something I won’t admit to myself, even when my mind says to avoid, push away, and return to the life I’ve created for myself.

Soon.Twenty-four hours. Then I can move on and rebuild what was broken. Most notably: myself.

I head for Dimitri’s bathroom to shower and dress in one of Vanessa’s outfits she’s so nicely let me borrow, considering the way in which I was brought here left me no time to prepare and pack a bag.

When finished, Dimitri is exactly where he said he’d be, seated on the floor across the hall. He gets to his feet, his eyes drinking me in in that possessive way of his that makes me want to both bolt and stay stationary.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He turns for the stairs. “Let’s go. I have something to show you.”

Fuck.

She smells like me.

My soap. My shower. My goddamn bed. The only thing that’d make it better is if she’d allow me to replace Vanessa’s clothing with my own. Maybe then—maybe—the possessive asshole buried inside me might be satisfied enough.

Beneath my soap, her citrus scent lingers, and it fills the small car I’ve chosen for the trip, meaning I’m borderline in pain with fucking desire. My body is taut, thrumming with need.

This trip feels never-ending because I’m so damn attuned to her. Every time she shifts, she gains my attention. Every little sigh has me dying to know what’s in her head. Every breath has me counting the seconds until her next one, if only for something to distract myself with before I pull over, bend her over the hood of the car, and remind her exactly who I am and why she’ll never leave me again.

The past three hours have been spent in complete silence. I anticipate at some point she’ll ask to pull over for the bathroom,food, or to stretch her legs, but she remains pinned to the passenger door like it’ll be her saviour.

The silence feels endless, and I long to break it. Despite stalking her all these years, I don’t know everything about her. Not her thoughts, her fears, her hopes, or her plans—anything not tangible, but I want to know more than my lungs need oxygen.

After another few minutes of driving, I can’t handle it anymore. I’m too tightly wound, about to snap, so I break the silence.

“You switched your major from education to counselling.”

She stiffens, her hands forming fists on her lap, and somehow finds a way to lean farther away—from me, from the silence I’ve shattered, reminding her precisely where she is. “It felt right.”

“Suits you. You were always compassionate enough for what that career requires.”

Compassion is what made you fall for a criminal.

She doesn’t reply, twisting her body ever so slightly even farther away, forcing me to bite down on a sigh.

“How are your parents?” I choose another topic off the list I’ve been mentally constructing.

“Fine.”

Is this really better than silence?

“Do you need to stop or anything?”