Page 29 of Depraved Devotion

“You’re fucking crazy.” Mason’s voice carries the sharpness of his insult, but his posture, the way his shoulders sag, tells me he’s afraid.

He should be.

I don’t respond. And I don’t stop laughing as I make my way across the living room to the patio door. I pick up the baseball bat that sits there and lift it, resting the length of it on my shoulder.

“What do you think you’re going to do, Gen?” He takes a retreating step, signaling his uncertainty. “Are you going to hit me?”

I stop laughing and tilt my head, a mocking smile firmly planted on my face. “Fuck around, and find out.”

He gapes at me before turning sharply, his footsteps heavy as he storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. The noise reverberates through the room, but I dismiss it.

I stand there with my chest full of repressed laughter and adrenaline coursing through my blood, heating me all over. I turn my head to peer at my reflection again.

Now, I’m looking at an entirely different person.

My cheek is red, the skin starting to swell, but the woman looking back at me is strong. Stronger than I ever gave her credit for.

And she’s not afraid.

I smile at my reflection as Ghost’s voice fills my mind.

“There’s the Geneva that I see.”

CHAPTER 14

GHOST

It’s been almost three days and Geneva still hasn’t come to see me.

I tap my fingers against the cold metal table in my cell, the rhythm steady but relentless. Like my thoughts of her. I’ve been accurate in all of my assessments of Dr. Andrews, along with anticipating her reactions. She should’ve contacted me by now.

Is she hiding from me?

Or hidingsomethingfrom me?

I get up and walk over to my cell door to make sure the guards aren’t nearby before retrieving mynewcell phone from its hiding place in the wall. After my final taunt to Geneva during our last visit, she informed the guards about my contraband, and they confiscated it.Such a tattletale.

If she were here, I’d spank her for that.

Because of that little stunt, I haven’t been able to watch Geneva for days and it’s killing me. What good is having cameras in her apartment if I can’t fucking see her?

I power on the phone and select the app that’s linked to thehidden cameras, the grainy black-and-white feed from her apartment flickering to life. The angles aren’t perfect, but they’re good enough. And there she is.

Finally.

Geneva is sitting on her couch, scrolling through her phone, her posture rigid like she’s deep in thought. I watch her for a few moments, the tension in her body almost palpable even through the poor-quality feed. There’s a smudge on her cheek, but I chalk it up to the lighting, the shadows playing tricks on the screen. She’s too precise, too put together for it to be anything else.

I scroll through my unanswered texts.

Unknown:You said you were done with me. Is this another lie you’ve told yourself?

Unknown:You’re quiet, but quiet doesn’t equate to tranquility. What are you thinking about? Maybe it’s a person with white hair, a killer instinct, erm… I mean a killer smile, and a big dick?

Unknown:I hate to tell you, but silence is agreeance, Dr. Andrews.

I type another cryptic text message and send it with my pulse racing. If she doesn’t seek me out after this, then I’ll lose my fucking mind. And put a tracker underneath that beautiful skin, blackmail her, or whatever the fuck it takes to keep her.

Actually, I think I’ll do all of that anyway.