Page 58 of Little Spider

She doesn’t know shit.

I yank my jacket off the chair, shoving my phone into my pocket. The urge to break something claws at me, but I swallow it down. I don’t have time to waste on a tantrum. I need to find her.

My phone buzzes—a notification from the security app I rigged on her phone when she wasn’t paying attention. I pull it up, tracking her location. A tight, satisfied smile spreads across my face.

“You can run, Little Spider, but you’ll never get far.”

I grab my keys and head out the door, slamming it behind me. The motel hallway echoes with the sound, and I make my way to the stairs, moving fast but controlled. No point drawing too much attention.

As I step out into the cold night, I pull up the location again. She’s not far. A few blocks down, toward the old train yard. Clever girl—no cameras there. But not clever enough to know I’ve been tracking her every move since the beginning.

The anger coils tighter, turning sharp and focused. I can’t believe she thought she could just slip away after the night we had. After I gave her what she so clearly fucking needed.

I keep walking, cutting through alleys, the city quiet in the early dawn light. My breath mists in front of me, and I let it out slowly, forcing my mind to stay clear.

I’ll make her regret running. I’ll teach her that once I’ve claimed something, I don’t let it go.

She’s mine.

The rage simmers just beneath my skin, making my hands itch to grab her, drag her back, pin her down until she’s too exhausted to move. Maybe that’s the problem. I went too easy on her. Made her think she had some control.

I’ll fix that.

My phone pings again—a movement alert. She’s still in the train yard, probably hiding. I take a turn, cutting through the shortcut I know, slipping around the back of the abandoned warehouse that overlooks the tracks.

As I get closer, I spot her. Huddled against one of the rusted train cars, knees pulled to her chest, head down. She doesn’t see me yet.

Stupid, reckless little thing.

I step out of the shadows, making sure she hears the crunch of gravel under my boots. Her head snaps up, eyes wide and panicked, and I see the way her body tenses, like a rabbit caught in a trap.

I tilt my head, letting the anger bleed into my voice, low and dangerous. “Running again, Raven?”

She scrambles to her feet, backing up until she hits the side of the train car. Her hands are shaking, and I take a slow, deliberate step forward. “Thought you could just leave? After everything? After begging me to fuck you, to make you mine? You really think I’d just let you go?”

Her lips part, and she looks like she’s trying to find words, but nothing comes out. I take another step, and she presses tighter to the metal, like she could slip through it and disappear.

I stop just in front of her, my hand coming up to rest on the cold steel beside her head.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t wake up and come after you? Or did you want me to follow? Is that it? Trying to see how far I’d go to get you back?”

She shakes her head, and I see the conflict in her eyes—fear and something darker, something raw.

“I just… I needed space,” she whispers.

I laugh, the sound rough and cruel.

“Space? After how you melted in my hands? After how you begged for more? You don’t get space, Little Spider. You’re mine. You don’t get to run. Not from me.”

Her chest heaves, and I lean in, pressing my body against hers, feeling the way she trembles.

“You know what happens when you run?” I murmur, lips brushing her ear. “I make it hurt. I’ll make sure you never even think about leaving again.”

She swallows hard, and I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I say, voice dropping to a growl. “I’ll tie you to the fucking bed if I have to. Make you remember exactly why you belong to me.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, pressing my lips to hers—hard, possessive—reminding her who’s in control. She fights it at first, hands pushing against my chest, but I don’t give her the chance to resist. I bite down on her lower lip, just enough to draw a gasp, and push my tongue past her lips, swallowing the sound.