5. Corey
5
COREY
A fter dinner, I returned to my room and changed into sweats and a T-shirt.
I sat on my bed and flipped through channels, finally landing on a movie I’d seen a thousand times. I found myself scrolling on my phone as the movie played in the background. Eventually, I got restless. I turned off the TV and walked to the door, listening carefully before opening it.
The only sounds I heard were creaks from the old house settling as the night grew colder. Where was Mr. Marchesi? In his room? In his office? I didn’t actually want to see him, did I? Why would I? He wasn’t going to talk to me.
Although it was fun to study him and imagine what it would feel like to melt all his ice.
No , I scolded myself, this isn’t a book. I can’t keep having these fantasies.
There were so many books in the living room. Surely I could find something I was interested in, maybe even a Gothic horror. That seemed like the appropriate thing to read in an old, dark, cold home where I was a prisoner.
Or at least basically a prisoner.
A fairly well-treated one, though, even if my captor was a grouch.
I pulled on the thick terry cloth robe that was hanging in the bathroom for me and cinched it tight. It was even colder in the hall. Maybe Dom didn’t even feel it. Maybe he matched the inside temperature to the ice in his bones.
My feet were freezing, but I didn’t have slippers and hadn’t felt like putting on socks. I’d survive until I could come back and warm them under the covers.
The books in the living room were mostly scholarly non-fiction or coffee table books—nice to flip through, but I wanted a novel. I dismissed them and began to wander. Dominic’s office door was shut, and I had no doubt it was locked. I didn’t need to tempt fate by trying to get in, so I headed toward the sunroom at the back of the house.
I was halfway to the bookshelves when I realized Dominic was there, sitting in a wingback chair. He was watching me, eyes narrowed, obviously not happy I’d disturbed him.
“I thought I was allowed in this room. The door was open and?—”
“The room is not forbidden.”
Damn, his commanding voice made me shiver. What was wrong with me? He didn’t even like me. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be interested in anything else. And I knew he’d been married to a woman. He could be bisexual, but there was no evidence of that except the look he’d given me. Actually, he was giving it to me now, like I intrigued him, even though he didn’t like it.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just came in here looking for a book. I watched TV for a while, but then I kind of got bored, and I started scrolling on my phone, but I’ve told myself I’m not going to do that as much. I want to be doing other things, and I’ve gotten back into reading, so I thought maybe?—”
Mr. Marchesi held up a hand, and I realized I was probably infuriating him by babbling. “What type of book would you like?”
I wasn’t sure he’d take it well if I told him I thought a Gothic horror would fit the vibe of his house. “I read a lot of different things. I like mysteries, and I like fantasy, and I read a romance book recently and damn, that was hot.”
Mr. Marchesi cleared his throat. “I don’t need to know anymore. This is an excellent mystery. I just finished it.” He reached for the book with his scarred left hand. When he grasped it, his hand spasmed. I glanced up and saw naked pain on his face for a second before he covered it with blankness.
“Do you need me to get something for you?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. “I already told you, I don’t need anything from you.”
“I can tell you’re in pain. I’d like to help, and I’m wondering if this situation is…um…how are you…um…” I looked away. Fuck, what was I doing? I couldn’t insult him by asking how he’d protect me if he was in pain. Why had I opened my mouth?
He reached into a drawer in the side table and pulled out a gun. Oh God, was he going to shoot me? “Please, I….”
Without saying a word, he screwed something onto the end of the gun. Was that a silencer?
He was going to kill me. I should have followed my instincts and run while I could.
“Follow me,” he ordered.
Maybe he didn’t want to execute me in his nice sunroom. Should I try to run? “I…um….”
He turned back and scowled at me. I scurried to catch up to him as if I was eager to be shot.
I shivered when we stepped though the French doors into the courtyard. He motioned for me to sit down on a couch that faced a fire pit. I would be much more into following his demands if he wanted to fuck me instead of wanting to kill me. “This isn’t necessary. Really. I’m sorry if I insulted you. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted?—”
He held up a hand, and I immediately stopped speaking. He was so fucking sexy, so commanding. If he asked me to beg him to shoot me, I probably would.
“Watch,” he said as he moved a few steps away. “See that apple hanging from the top branch?”
“I…um…not exactly.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Come over here.”
On shaky legs, I moved to stand beside him. He pointed again at a huge apple tree. While it was past its growing season, a few small apples still clung on.
“You mean that tiny one way up there?” How was his eyesight better than mine? He was plenty old enough for me to call him Daddy.
“Yes. Now, watch.” He lifted the gun and shot it off the tree.
“Holy shit. How did you…?” I looked around for some way this could have been a trick but found none.
“Go find it.” He gestured to the ground under the tree.
Was he going to shoot me while I searched? At least if he was I wouldn’t have to face him while anticipating the moment.
I saw the apple. It was bright yellow, easy to pick out against the brown leaves. I stared at it, eyes wide. “It’s…you didn’t….” I walked back to him and held it out. “It’s whole.”
He smiled. “That’s because I shot the stem.”
“No way. That’s not… No one can do that.”
“I can. Before my…accident, I was one of the best assassins in the world.”
My breath caught. “You’re an assassin?”
“I was. Now…I have a hell of a lot more paperwork.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. He sounded so pissed off about that.
“So you don’t kill people anymore?”
His smile made him look like a panther who was about to eat me. “I didn’t say that.”
“Oh. Well…I hope they’re all bad people.”
“They are, but then, so am I. Things changed for me after…” He waved his hand as if to dismiss whatever had happened to him. “But my aim is as good as it ever. You’re safe here.”
It seemed like I was. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now take your book and go. I’m busy.”
He hadn’t seemed busy. He’d just been sitting in the living room and drinking from a brandy snifter, but I wasn’t going to push my luck.