Page 84 of From Hell

“This place is discreet.”

“And expensive,” I mutter.

“Who gives a fuck. We’re on a date.”

Date.What does that word even mean to someone like Jaxon? While trapped at his house, I did what any sane girl would. I snooped. And when that futile search brought up nothing useful, I privately browsed his name on the internet.

Jaxon has taken a lot of women on dates. The paparazzi love a juicy story where he’s concerned, being among the few eligible men in London worth billions, and the internet is awash with photos and gossip galore. It’s like med school all over again, Jaxon being the most popular and coveted one, likely to fuck and forget.

And then there’s me.

A dropout. A nobody. With nothing to my name but a crazy, dangerous obsession. Even my job is a joke in his circle.

Who bartends after med school?

By the time dessert comes, I’m restless. I’m not used to handing over the reins when hunting the men who make it onto my list. I haven’t even told the girls, which feels reckless all by itself. I have dozens of missed calls from Sage and one probing message from Nola asking why I ditched the Stronger Together meeting on Monday night.

Because I was at Jaxon’s house.

During the day, I spent most of my time biting my nails, wondering if I’d made the right decision, and the nights in Jaxon’s spare bedroom, counting the raindrops sliding down the skylight until sleep hauled me under.

I can’t say that or lie to them, so I haven’t replied. If this goes wrong, I want them nowhere near it.

That’s the least I can do for all they’ve done for me.

Yet my hand itches to pick up my phone and tell them where I am, just in case it all goes wrong.

“Laine.” Jaxon’s firm tone cuts through the haze of lost thoughts, dragging me back.

I blink at him. “I’m here.”

“Good, because it’s nearly time.” He looks at his watch and then back at me. His gaze burns me where I sit.

I want to ask, Time for what? But I know.

What’s the time, Mr. Wolf? Time to kill.

A chill slides down my spine despite the restaurant’s warmth, but then Jaxon takes my hand underneath the table, anchoring me. And all the anxiety, all the worry, fades away.

I look into Jaxon’s eyes, glowing with delight and debauchery, his thumb striking fire as it rubs over my palm, and my nerves spark, bringing me to life.

I am no longer underwater, behind a veil, hidden.

I’m here.

I’m electric.

With Jaxon.

“Ready?”

I nod.

But before leaving the security of our little den, something distorted and cold crosses Jaxon’s face. His silver-gray eyes darken briefly. His hand grips mine, stopping me from getting to my feet.

He leans close, his hot breath cupping my cheek. “If I lose control, shoot me.”

“How will I know?”