Chapter 7
Mia
I’m sitting in the backseat of Killian’s SUV, my hands cuffed behind my back and my ankles zip tied together.
After Killian left me tied up and desperate earlier, I shockingly ended up falling asleep. I’m surprised that I was even able to, because my need to come was almost painful.
When I woke up, he let me take a shower (still cuffed to him, of course; he just stood on the other side of the shower curtain) and he made me food.
I have no idea how he knows what size I am, but I had clean clothes waiting for me, too.
He’s barely spoken to me, but I’m fine with that. I don’t want to talk to him either. He embarrassed me earlier, and I’m still pissed.
I’m angrier at myself than I am at him, though.
I know better. Killian has made it perfectly clear that he despises me; of course he wasn’t going to let me come.
It made me feel pathetic; how desperate I was for him to touch me.
I didn’t realize how touch starved I’d been until I felt his hands on me and then I felt crazed and needy.
I won’t make that mistake again. I sat with my shame after that long enough to have learned my lesson. I won’t let Killian fuck with me again.
It’s dark out now as we drive to Rosebrook Falls. Killian listens to music that I can only describe as “head banging”, and it’s giving me a migraine. I don’t want him to know how much I hate it, though. I’m sure that would only fuel him to turn it up louder so he could torture me some more.
I’m lost in thought, looking out the window, when he turns it down and looks at me in the rearview mirror.
“Some things you need to know about my family,” he says quickly. “You won’t meet them tonight, but you will tomorrow.”
I don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.
“I have three brothers,” he tells me. “Reign’s the oldest. He’s married to Calista. They have two kids, Luna and Zephyr. Then there’s Maddox. He could be dating someone, but it’s not serious if he is, so it doesn’t matter. And then my youngest brother, Jeremy.”
I think of Hayden’s words from earlier. How would Killian marrying me help his brother?
“My parents are Charles and Cynthia Savage,” he goes on. “My father is an attorney. My mother…she’s a housewife, I guess. She runs charity events.”
I can’t help but frown.
“You told me you were estranged from your family,” I say accusingly, and he glares at me.
“I was,” he snaps. “Are we really going to play that game though? I mean, fuck. You weren’t even honest about your name.”
“Not because-"
“I don’t care,” he cuts me off. “We’ve been together for almost a year. That’s what we’re telling them.”
“Fine,” I retort, refusing to meet his gaze.
“We need a story for you, too,” he says, and I frown.
“Why?”
“For starters, I don’t know anything about you.”
“Yes, you do,” I reply. “You know my story, Killian. You just didn’t know my name and some details.”
He chuckles darkly. “I know nothing about you, Mia.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I shoot back. “Not everything that I told you was a lie. I grew up with my mom who was a fucking trainwreck. I don’t know my dad. I have no siblings. There’s nothing else to know about my family life.”
“We’re going to tell my parents that your parents died,” he tells me. “And you’re an only child. You have no other family.”
I snicker. “Whatever.”
“It’s not ‘whatever’, Mia. We can’t fuck up our story. If my father finds out we’re not a real couple, we’re fucked. I have too much riding on this for that to happen.”
I don’t say anything. It takes me a moment to name the feeling that’s coursing through me, and I realize that it’s embarrassment. Shame.
Of course my backstory isn’t good enough for Killian’s perfect family. His family would take one look at me and think that I’m trash.
I hate how bitter that thought makes feel. I hate that I care at all, but I do.
We pull down a long and narrow road, and we drive for about a mile when the road suddenly splits and opens up, revealing a ton of land. We pull up to a massive wrought iron gate, and I blink in disbelief as I look up at the house before me.
No, house isn’t an accurate description; this is an estate.
I don’t mean to snort, but I do.
“You have the audacity to judge me for not being entirely truthful when you never once shared with me that you grew up here?”
Killian doesn’t respond to that. I didn’t expect him to, but I want him to know that I think that he’s a fucking hypocrite. He had no problem judging me, but clearly there’s things about himself and his past that he wasn’t honest about, either.
He punches a code into the gate, and we drive down the driveway, bypassing the main house and turning into a small parking spot that’s in front of a cottage.
“This is where we’re staying,” he tells me. “Not in the main house.”
“What is this?” I ask him.
“It’s where the staff stayed back in the day,” he says, and I can’t help but let out another snort.
He ignores me as he parks the car and gets out. He opens my door for me, then he cuts off my zip ties. I’m waiting for him to uncuff me, and when he doesn’t, I glare at him.
“You said you wouldn’t keep me cuffed here,” I say, my voice low.
“I said I wouldn’t cuff you around my family,” he corrects me. “No one is meeting you right now. Let’s go.”
He takes my arm and pulls me along with him. Then he leads me to the cottage.
We step inside, and I have to hold in a gasp at how beautiful it is. His family clearly keeps up with cleaning it and making sure it’s nice. It’s beautifully decorated for Christmas, and I stare in awe at the twinkling lights that are strung up all around the room.
It’s big and open; a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, and then a staircase that leads to the second floor. Calling it a cottage almost feels wrong; it’s much bigger than a cottage.
Killian never lets go of my arm, and we head towards the stairs, making our way up. He opens the door to a room that’s a master suite and throws our bags on the bed.
“This is where we’re staying,” he tells me.
I nod, looking around. Despite everything, I feel somewhat relieved that I’m here. Killian might hate me and he also might be an ass, but I’m safe. I’m warm. I’m not exactly free, but I’ll take what I can get right now.
Killian takes the keys to the handcuffs out of his pocket, and I feel a surge of hope bloom in my chest. It’s very short lived, however, because he cuffs one of my wrists to the bed.
“I’ll be back,” he says, and I stare at him in dismay.
“Where are you going?”
“To see my brother,” he replies.
“Please don’t leave me cuffed,” I beg.
Something flickers across his face for a moment; sympathy? Compassion? Warmth? But I watch it fade and he clenches his jaw, shaking his head, no.
“Not a chance,” he snaps. “Be grateful that I’m not leaving you exactly like I left you earlier.”
He smirks at me and my cheeks instantly feel like they’re on fire.
I don’t want him to know how much of an effect he has on me, though, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Thank you so much, Killian,” I say sarcastically. “I’m so grateful you’re only handcuffing one hand, not both.”
He chuckles as he watches me from the door.
“Keep it up, Kitten,” he says. “I’ll be back.”
Then he leaves.
Despite my sarcasm, I actually am grateful that I’m only cuffed with one hand. I can actually move right now, and I’m not forced to lay on the bed.
Not that I can do anything. I’m next to a nightstand, and I open a drawer, surprised to see a sketch book.
I take it out and sit down on the bed, flipping through the pages.
This must be Killian’s. I know that he used to draw.
Wow, these are good.
His drawings are dark. Weeping willow trees, a crying eye, a dagger with blood dripping from it.
But they’re amazing.
When I get to the last page, I see Killian’s name, along with the words ‘age 15’ next to it.
Killian was fifteen when he drew these? I’m surprised by the depth that fifteen year old Killian was capable of.
I guess I shouldn’t be. The Killian that I knew was very emotional, even if he sucked at showing it. This is probably how he shows it. Drawing.
I feel like I’m going to cry, and I put his sketch book back in the drawer. He would probably be pissed if he knew I looked at his art.
I sit back down on the bed, leaning my head against a pillow.
I don’t want to soften towards Killian at all, but I can feel myself doing just that.
I close my eyes, feeling more conflicted than I’ve felt in a long time.