Chapter 4
Chapter Four
BLAIR
Why the hell am I in his lap? Not only that, why does he smell so freaking good? His woodsy, sexy scent wraps around me. It’s annoying because I shouldn’t like it, but it’s weirdly comforting, and I don’t even like the outdoors. I must be losing my mind. That’s got to be it. My mind simply snapped.
My mouth brushes his neck, and I feel his Adam's apple move. It was an accident.
Liar.
Furthermore, why did he say he wants me here? He sounded so pissed at Damon. That makes two of us. What if I could turn him against his brother and then have him murder him in revenge?
Yikes. I have been hanging around these Marinos too much.
“Where are we?” I ask when I get my composure.
“Outside of the city.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Sherlock?” His body jerks like he barked a laugh, but no sound came out.
“Seriously. We have to be past the Marino compound unless you’re going in circles.”
“You’re a clever girl, Hellcat.” I fight a smile at him calling me that. “I’m taking us to my cabin.”
“Why?”
“It’s safest there.” That doesn’t really answer my question. I lift my head to meet his dark, intense gaze.
“That tells me nothing.”
“Would you rather be in the hole?” He sounds offended.
“That’s a stupid-ass question.”
Eros cocks his head. “It was,” he agrees with me. “I won’t take you back there. Do you want Damon?” That question comes out of left field. For me at least.
“Nope, in fact I’m plotting to turn you against him so that you’ll murder him for me.”
“Would that make you happy?” I bark an unexpected laugh, but mine fills the inside of the SUV.
“He can live, but I hate him now.” I wiggle in his lap. “Maybe I should—” I nod over to my empty seat.
“You want back in your seat?”
“Probably for the best.”
“That’s not an answer.” Does he want me to stay here? I didn’t take Eros as a cuddler. Pretty sure I am, and my cat Binx pretends to hate it.
“Yes, back in my seat.” He lifts me easily, placing me in it like I’m a doll. Then he pulls my seat belt over me. It clicks loudly. I snag him by the wrist. “You’re keeping me safe?”
“Yes.”
“From whom?”
“Everyone.” I drop my hold on him, and Eros puts the SUV back into drive. The car falls silent, and it’s a fight not to break it with idle chatter or pepper him with questions. He’s not that great at answering them. Thankfully he speaks first. “What is your relationship with Damon?”
“Your brother?”
“Yes.”
"I don’t know if it counts as a relationship."
Eros snaps his eyes my way momentarily. “A situationship? That’s what it’s called.” His tone is dark and intimidating. Should I ask if “keeping me safe” is from him too? Not sure I want that answer.
“Oh, God no.” I never thought of Damon that way. In fact, I don’t think of anyone that way. I think? Eros has me questioning that. “I just don’t know if we were friends or not. I thought on some level we had mutual respect for each other, but I was wrong.” I roll my eyes at myself.
“When it comes to keeping the family safe, there isn't much we won’t do.”
"No matter the casualties," I mutter, turning my attention back out the window. As annoyed as I am over that, I respect it on some level, or maybe I’m jealous of it.
I have not a clue where we are. It’s too dark out to see much of anything.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he says again.
“Why?” I turn my attention back to him. Even the man's profile is intimidating with that hard-line jaw.
“Because I want you.” I stare at him, stunned. He did not say that.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Some say I never had it.” I snort a laugh. Okay, this isn’t funny.
“What does that mean? That you want me? Like sex?” I scrunch my nose.
The men who hit on me think they have me pegged.
They think I would be a fun time with no strings attached.
Because I’m different, I guess that makes me a whore, or I should feel honored that they are giving me the time of day. No thanks.
“No,” he says simply. That was the answer I wanted, or so I thought until I’d gotten it.
“Okay, then.”
“Are you annoyed?” he asks next.
“Let’s see, I was drugged and then placed in a hole in the pitch-black.” I wrap my arms around myself at the reminder. “All for trying to help a girl that I thought was my friend.”
“I meant about the sex comment.”
“Oh.” I lick my lips. “It’s fine; it’s not like I want to have sex with you either.”
“We’ll get there.”
“Wait, what?” This man is confusing. Maybe if he spoke in longer sentences, I might understand. “You said you don’t want sex.”
“Not right now. You’re scared.”
“Thought that would turn you on.”
“I won’t lie. I enjoy others' fear more than I should. But I’m finding I don’t enjoy yours.” Why is that oddly romantic?
“And that’s why they sent you to come and extract information from me?”
"I suppose."
I lean back in my seat. "What happened in the end? I don't really know the outcome. I take it everyone is fine."
"Not the men who took you. They're dead. The drugs have been shut down, and the Chief of Police has been put back in line."
"Wait, the police were involved too?"
"They were paid to look the other way and helped cover up things." Holy shit.
"And the Chief of Police was in on it?" I shouldn't be shocked. Chaos and darkness have a way of finding me. I might also linger close to it, but I’m nosy. I can’t help myself.
"No, but it was one of his men, so he’s responsible." Yikes.
“So you punished him?” Eros shrugs. “That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, I dealt with him before I came out to the hole.” I chew on my bottom lip, reminding myself to not be nosy. I’m vowing to stay out of any Marino business—but I fail within seconds.
“What did you do to him?” I notice his hold on the steering wheel tightens. “You don’t want to tell me? Is he still walking this earth?” I probably shouldn’t be asking questions like that, but I really can’t help myself.
“I don’t want to scare you.”
“I killed a man today and then was subjected to my worst fear.”
“What is your worst fear?” It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that he skipped over my question.
“No way I’m telling you! It’s like your job is to exploit people's fears.”
“Is it the dark?” This motherfucker. I glare over at him. “I won’t use it.” I almost want to make him promise, but I’m guessing breaking a promise is nothing to a person that kills and tortures people.
“Wrong,” I lie, but it’s pointless; I’m pretty sure he knows.
“Now tell me what you did to the guy.” Whoa, here I am issuing orders.
If he is telling the truth about wanting me, which I’m not sure I’m buying, it could be a play.
But in case he isn’t, I might as well exploit that myself.
I have to work with what I’ve got, and it’s not a whole lot.
"I put a nail through his hand."
I gasp, clenching my own hand.
"It was his left.”
"And that makes it better?" I can't help but laugh. I'm not sure if it's a real one or hysterical.
"His right is his dominant hand." He actually sounds offended that he was nice in his nailing of a man's hand and I’m laughing about it.
"This is so fucked up." I wipe at the corner of my eye. Tears have formed from my laughter.
"It made you laugh. Do you wish for me to tell you more stories? Do they need to be nail gun centric?"
"I can't." I laugh even harder that our small-talk subject is his practice of torture. When I get myself together, I swear Eros might almost be smirking. "Let's hold off on that. Save them for bedtime stories."
"If you wish." Eros turns onto a gravel road that I can barely see. The fit is tight for the SUV with trees looming overhead. It’s dead silent for a few moments. I swear you could hear a damn pin drop.
“This is creepy,” I mutter. “Then again, that’s your style.”
“Says the girl in all black.”
“Hey, my shirt is white,” I point out.
“You have no choice but to wear it.” All right, it is part of the school uniform.
So maybe I favor black? It’s very thinning, people say, and it goes with everything.
Before I can give a smart-ass response, I see an even creepier looking, chained gate with a padlock.
A no trespassing sign is on it but tilted and rusted.
“This is the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”
He reaches over, opening the glove box to grab a set of keys on a ring. “That’s the point,” Eros says before hopping out of the truck and opening the gate.
“Wait, so you made it look this way?”
“Another level of security. There are cameras on the gate and property, but you have to be on-site to see them.”
“Why? No Wi-Fi out here in The Hills Have Eyes.”
"No, I don't use Wi-Fi out here, but I can connect to a satellite if need be."
"Why?" I’m just asking one question after another. Why not? He’s answering them.
"It's off the grid. No one knows about this place, and I'm keeping it that way." My curiosity once again perks up.
"Not even your family?"
"No one," he answers.
But he brought me here.
He is either telling the truth that he wants me, or he has no plans to ever let me go. I suppose it could be both.