13. Luella
Chapter 13
Luella
“ I found us some blankets.” Colton drags a hand through his ink black hair, the glow from the fire highlighting his incredible bone structure. He’s beautiful, and my heart leaps every time he looks at me, but I can’t let myself get distracted. It would be so easy to lose myself to Colton for one night, to be a normal girl who isn’t trying to take down a perverted puppet master or avenge her murdered sister. To just let Colton’s touch bring me the pleasure I can’t ever remember having. His eyes meet mine, his brow lifting as though he can read my mind. I flush and take the blankets from his arms, glancing around.
“There’s nowhere to sleep,” I point out, but he gives me a grin that tells me there is, although I’m not going to like it.
“It’s in there…” He nods to the floor, and I follow his gaze, seeing nothing. Just wooden floorboards. “Under the trapdoor.”
Trapdoor?
I squint and look closer, my mouth gaping when I see the tiny grooves outlining the square that must lead to somewhere else, somewhere below us.
“It’s got a basement level?”
Colton yawns and nods. “There's a bed down there, but there’s no blankets. It’s fucking freezing too, but if you want to sleep, I’ll keep watch up here.” He glances around before sinking to the ground, resting his head against the stone wall. His grey shirt rides up as he stretches, and I have to look away when his abs taunt me. “There could be rats.”
Rats?
I glance back at the trapdoor, not liking the thought of sleeping down there at all.
“Come here,” Colton murmurs, outstretching his hand.
My body moves on its own accord until I’m standing in front of him, staring down at his perfect face. The shadows from the fire dance against his skin and for a second, his eyes look black, like a bottomless ocean. His fingers reach up and circle my wrist, tugging me so I fall onto my knees, the blankets falling from my hands onto his lap.
“Oof!” I glare at him as he grabs my other wrist, tugging me close to his face so he can drag his nose over my cheek. I shiver, and he moves his lips to my throat, his tongue flickering against my pulse.
“Isn’t that better?” he murmurs, rolling his lips against the softness of my throat.
I close my eyes and nod, trying—but failing—to resist his touch. For all I know, this man could be a fucking monster, but even so, he saved me when I didn’t even know I needed it. If it wasn’t for Colton, I could have been ambushed and destroyed by his fucking father. I curse myself for not preparing better.
“Mary, let me see you,” Colton begs, his hands stroking the small of my back before moving to my front. His fingers brush my nipples, and a low moan leaves his lips. “Come on, Mary.”
His voice aches with longing, and I wonder if I’m fucking crazy for considering this, but who cares anymore? I’m so fucking cold, even when we’re beside the fire. His finger strokes my lower lip as he gazes at me. “Tell me who you are, if you can’t show me.”
I swallow and gaze into his eyes, trying desperately to work out if he’s worthy or not.
“I can’t,” I whisper, and he reaches up, dragging my mouth to his painfully.
“You can tell me anything and everything,” he reassures, his voice laced with frustration. “I am the only person who can protect you, Mary, and I can’t do that if I don’t know who you are.”
Our lips are centimeters away from one another, our breaths mingling in the cold air.
“What do you want to know?” I inquire, my voice wobbling. I swore I wouldn’t break, that I wouldn’t get distracted, but here I am, sitting on Colton’s lap like his favorite toy.
“Oh, everything,” Colton responds, stroking my back once again. “But we’ll start with your real name.”
I stiffen, and he laughs, a slow, rolling noise deep from his chest.
“It’s okay, your secret is safe with me.”
I can’t trust him. I won’t.
“My name is Mary.”
Colton stares at me before moving closer, his lips hovering over mine as his tongue laps along my bottom lip, startling me. “Mm, I can taste your lies, sweetheart.”
The flicker of amusement in Colton’s eyes is replaced by a piercing intensity, a reminder that he’s not just a man capable of tenderness, but also a survivor. “You can keep your secrets, Mary,” he whispers against my mouth, the warmth of his breath the opposite to the coolness of his words. “But remember, I’m good at uncovering truths.”
I pull back slightly, my heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration. His grip on me doesn’t lessen, but there’s a new understanding in his gaze—a challenge, even. He knows I’m hiding something, and he’s eager to discover what it is. But I can’t let him get too close, can’t let him see the real me. Not yet. Not until Xavier is dead and I’m free.
“You think you know me, Colton, but you don’t,” I remark, my voice steady as my stomach churns and my ears ring. “And it’s probably better that way.”
He studies me for a moment longer before releasing a sigh, his fingers trailing along my jawline in a featherlight touch that sends shivers down my spine. “Maybe you’re right,” he concedes, his tone softer now. “Maybe some things are better left in the dark.”
I nod, relieved by his acceptance, but knowing it won’t last. Colton is nothing if not persistent, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he tries to peel back the layers of my lies. For now, though, I need to focus on the task at hand—killing Xavier and ending this nightmare once and for all.
With great effort, I extract myself from Colton’s embrace and rise to my feet, wrapping one of the blankets around my shoulders like a shield. “We should get some sleep,” I suggest, my eyes darting to the trapdoor and the bed it offers. Even if there are rats, I’ll take my chances. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
As I walk toward the trapdoor, Colton’s eyes track every movement I make with unnerving precision. His stare lingers too long, a silent warning wrapped in heat, and for a moment, I feel like prey caught in a predator’s sights.
When I reach for the latch, his hand shoots out, clamping around my wrist in a vice grip.
My heart stutters.
“What are you doing?” His voice is rougher now, the hint of accusation simmering beneath the surface.
“I was just going downstairs…” I begin, but my voice falters.
His grip tightens, and his eyes harden, darkening with a possessiveness that makes my skin prickle.
“You don’t go anywhere without me, understood?” His words hit me like a slap. There’s no warmth left in his voice, only cold command. “I can’t let anything happen to you. Not now.”
What the fuck? He just said he would keep watch while I slept down there?!
Colton looks wild, his eyes bulging with rage. He releases my wrist slowly, his fingers uncurling like a threat that still hangs in the air, a silent reminder that I’m not going anywhere unless he allows it. My pulse races beneath my skin, the bruise of his touch lingering long after he’s let go.
I swallow, my throat tightening with the words I don’t dare say out loud.
Not now? What does that mean? Why now? Why does he care so much? And why tell me that he’ll keep watch then change his mind?
He’s insane.
For a second, the urge to scream at him flares up, but I choke it down, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. “So where are we going to sleep?” I ask tightly, every muscle in my body taut with nerves.
Why am I even asking him? My thoughts spin in a thousand different directions. I shouldn’t need his permission. I shouldn’t feel this knot in my stomach, twisting tighter every time he looks at me like that.
His gaze softens a little, but not much. There’s still that edge, the dark glint in his eyes that keeps me on alert. “We’ll sleep here, together.” He nods to the fire, where the blankets I dropped lie in a heap. “The basement’s too cold.”
I can’t suppress the shiver that runs down my spine.
Together?
The word hangs heavy in the air between us. My stomach churns, a mix of fear, frustration, and something else I can’t name.
How did it come to this? How did I end up tangled in his world, his control, where even the simple act of deciding where to sleep isn’t mine to make?
But I don’t argue. I can’t afford to, not now. Not when I need him just as much as he seems to need me.
“I guess we don’t have a choice,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to create some kind of barrier between us. But deep down, I know it’s futile. There’s no escaping Colton now—not here, not anywhere.
And God help me, I don’t know if I even want to.
The thought strikes like lightning, fast and unwelcome, but I shove it aside, locking it down before it takes root.
Because the truth is, I can’t afford to let myself care. Not about him or the way his touch lingers like fire.
Not when I have a plan, and it doesn’t involve falling under anyone’s control again.
Not his.
Especially not his.