Page 22 of Don't Hate Me
“Don’t make me change my mind,” he snips, not even looking back at me.
I zip my lips, not sure exactly what he’s going to change his mind on, but I don’t want to ruin it. If he’s letting me in on a part of him, then I want to know whatever it is. I’m desperate to know him.
He glances up the stairs, then back to me, his expression stony. Without warning, he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“I can do it,” I protest.
“I’m not waiting for you to climb every one of these damn stairs,” he grumbles.
When we get to the top platform, he sets me down on the ground again. My eyes go wide, trying to take it all in. I can’t help the gasp of shock that escapes me when I find the walls are lined with images of me. Like the scary shit you would find in a serial killer’s home. I can see why he didn’t want me to come in here. It’s confronting as hell. I wander further into the room, scanning over the images. They go back years, some of them from as long ago as before my mother died. He was watching me before that night. Goosebumps prickle over my arms, the hairs standing on end at the thought.
“Orlando, what is this?” I whisper, the words getting caught in my throat.
He takes a seat at a messy desk in the center of the room. “My workspace,” he mutters as if this whole thing is normal. He turns on the computer in front of him.
I move around behind him so I can see what he’s up to. There on the screen is the safe house by the docks. And my boys.They’re all there together still. I guess part of me thought they would return to their homes since I wasn’t there with them. My heart does a couple of backflips at the sight of their handsome faces.
“You wanted to see them, there they are.” He stands so I can take his seat.
Tentatively I sit down and stare at the screen, trying to work out what they’re doing. They’re in the living room gathered around the table, with a laptop open. “What are they watching?” I ask out loud, not really expecting Orlando to know.
“You, asleep.”
I spin around to him, blinking back in shock. “What? You sent them a video of me sleeping?”
“You wanted them to know you’re safe. They do. I have been giving them updates,” he spits, and I can see this is getting him more and more worked up by the second. He’s uncomfortable having me in this space, but he brought me here.
My eyes lock with his. “This is weird, Orlando. You know it is, right?”
He shrugs like he couldn’t give two shits what I think. In his twisted brain, it’s probably normal.
Not sure what to do, I turn my attention back to the screen to see Romeo losing his shit and Onyx put his fist through the dry wall in a fit of rage. “W… what just happened?” I stutter, wondering what they can see.
His lips twist cruelly at the sides. “You woke up having a nightmare, and I comforted you.”
Oh, shit. My heart kicks up a beat, knowing what the boys just saw and exactly why they’re now losing it. “You took my hand to comfort me because you were recording this shit to send to them.” Irritation crawls under my skin, my glare turning icy cold toward him. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
He shoves my chair back till it hits the wall. His hands come to either side of me, caging me in as he stares down at me like a raging bull. He sucks in a ragged breath, and I can tell he’s trying to get his temper under control, but I just pushed him too far. “I had to watch you fall for all three of them, one by one. Now they can watch you fall for me,” he spits back at me, his words like poison. “I took your hand to comfort you because I wanted you to feel safe with me, because I fucking care about you, treasure, not for a show. But I wanted them to see what we have already and know you’re mine just as much as you are theirs.”
I knew he was motherfucking crazy, but this shit is next-level psycho. How did he even get the video to them so quickly? I have been with him the entire time. Yeah, I might have just pushed him over the edge this morning, but I’m not sorry now that I know the truth. “You have lost your mind.”
He cracks his neck again, staring down at me, his chest rising and falling erratically giving me no indication of what the fuck he’s about to do. I keep my chin up, staring at him defiantly, telling him I’m not putting up with this shit. And like he didn’t just snap, his expression changes, his breathing calms down and he takes a controlled step away from me. “Time to go back to my room, treasure.”
I stare back at him like, what the fuck? But it doesn’t take me long to get up and start moving my legs. The expression on his face is not one I want to mess with. I want to see more of the boys, but not like this.
Chapter 12
EventhoughOrlandosentme back to his bedroom alone after he lost it in the lighthouse tower, I can still feel the erratic tension in the air. For a while I stared out the window, watching as the sky changed from the inky blue of the night to pale pinks and oranges as the sun slowly came up. I’m kind of grateful he locked me in his bedroom alone so I could get myself in check. This morning got out of hand. I probably shouldn’t have pushed him so far, but I could see he was keeping shit from me, and I wanted to know what it is. That room is all sorts of fucked up, and I’m surprised he showed it to me. Either he doesn’t realize how bad it is, or he doesn’t care and he wanted me to see the real him. Both thoughts are equally disturbing.
He’s more confusing than the other three combined, and I have no idea why I’m placing him in the same category. But after what he said this morning, I know that’s exactly what he wants.
He wants me to himself and for the other boys to suffer like he thinks he has. Really, it’s all his fault. If he hadn’t been stalking me, he wouldn’t have seen me with the three of them and had tobe so damn jealous. But somewhere in his fucked-up brain, he’s confused it all. He’s made them the enemy.
With a heavy sigh, I grab for the stack of books resting on my nightstand. With not much else to do around here, I finished the first one yesterday. I need to pick something new if I’m going to make it through today with no work or word from the boys. Even with my medication now, I feel like I’m going crazy just from being locked up. I want my chaotic life back, my girls and all the drama that comes with working with so many women. I wonder what they’re doing, if they’re thinking about me. I’m sure Myriah and Sally would be.
The reverse-harem book Orlando chose for me is on top of the stack, staring back at me, taunting me to open its cover. I’m curious how it all works, but even more inquisitive that he wanted me to know how it works. He wants me to himself, he’s made no secret of it. So why would he want me to read a book like this and get ideas in my head?
I grab an extra pillow from his side and prop it under my head, then open the cover, curiosity getting the better of me. I skim over the first chapter, meeting the main female character. Blue-eyed brunette Cynthia Sinclair comes across as a bit of a damsel in destress, on the run from her abusive ex-boyfriend, but deep down I can already tell she’s going to be a total badass. To escape him she stole his gun and car in the middle of the night. Definitely a badass move.