9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Naomi
K illian was allegedly called away for work. One would think being a psychopath was his main job, but apparently not. He owns a major tech company, Morel High Ground—that’s why he was able to stalk me so easily. The irony is not lost on me that the owner of a tech company named after the idiom “moral high ground” is a stalker. Nothing dies on the internet. Society leaves the biggest paper trail every day with their need for instant gratification through likes and comments. That’s the price we pay to have the world of knowledge at our fingertips.
Little does Killian know, I can do my own research.
Not wanting an awkward dinner with just Axel and me staring at each other across an expansive empty dining room table, we eat dinner in the massive den. We already finished eating the spaghetti and meatballs—my favorite comfort meal—now we’re just sipping on wine, while finishing up an episode of Criminal Minds . It’s an interesting choice considering my current circumstance, but it was the only one we could both agree on.
“How many times have you seen the show?” I ask Axel as he stares intensely at the screen where Spencer Reid’s doing his boy-genius thing—having an epiphany moment, finding the clue that nails the unsub.
“This would be maybe my fifth time? I stopped counting.”
“Wow.” I laugh. “You beat me. I’ve watched it three times.”
“The new rebooted season I’ve only seen once though.”
“It’s good, but not the same as the original run,” I add before groaning. I still get annoyed every time the commercials come up, wanting to grab my phone to doom-scroll, but obviously I don’t have it. I learned that both of them refuse to pay for premium service without ads even though they can clearly afford it. Which I can’t blame them for.
He turns to look at me with an agreeing smile. “Right! I enjoy it because it’s grittier, if that was even possible.”
“Yes, but so different. I think it’s also them not having all of the OG cast. I miss baby Reid.”
“You softie.” He playfully nudges my shoulder, and I roll my eyes at him. I would never have imagined that I would be lounging around like this in the circumstance I’m in. Something about Axel puts me at ease. I can physically feel my body being at stasis and relaxed.
Could he hurt me? I have no doubt. But right now I don’t think he has any intention to. Their plan to kidnap me to be his boss’ queen, or whatever the fuck, is insane. Full-blown, textbook definition of insane. However, they’ve shown me a lot of care in a less psycho way which is equally confusing.
“Shut up. Everyone loves Dr. Spencer Reid.”
There’s a twinkle in his eyes when he says, “Who doesn’t love ‘ Pretty Boy ?’ He was everyone's real crush.”
“He was definitely mine. The show did him dirty though.” I give a sympathetic smile toward the TV.
Axel emits a deep sigh. “That they did.”
The episode starts again, and we quiet down for a few minutes, before I decide to take advantage of Killian being out. “Why are you helping him?”
“Killian?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think being kidnapped was on my bingo card this year.” I roll my eyes before taking a sip of wine. “Lucky me being randomly abducted.”
He smiles warmly at me. “You’re anything but random. I’m sure he’s given you that fate bullshit?”
I feel my eyes vibrate as I roll them, but something warm flutters in my chest too. Something about igniting those rare emotions in someone feels exciting. “Yeah, earlier today.”
“Well, while I think he’s insane, I also believe him. Because in many ways fate brought him to me right when I needed him. So, I believe it brought you to him when he needed it.” He pauses the TV and grabs his wine glass to lean back on the couch and face me—giving me his full attention.
I raise my eyebrows for him to continue.
“He may be as bad as the serial killers in these shows in many ways,” he gestures toward the TV, “but like many of them he has a tragic origin that led to this point.”
“Tragedy doesn’t have to equate to violence,” I say, but I can’t make my eyes meet his, because I don’t fully believe that. I’m here calmly dealing with and assessing this situation because I want to kill them, but it needs to be when their guards are down.
“No, and he’s not all violence. He’s also the most loyal person if you get past his shields. While he’s still the boy who never heard ‘no’ and is very quick to anger—a typical rich douchebag, if you will—” He snorts out a laugh, “Killian’s also the man who’ll cut someone down if they’re being an asshole just for the sake of being one. I owe him everything.”
“He saved you?” I feel that warmth from earlier growing for my Killer , and it makes me hate myself.
“When we were in high school, it wasn’t easy for me at home or at school. Being an openly queer person back then was hard.” I see him grip the stem of his wine glass harder. I want to lean forward and offer comfort, but I let him have his moment. “Being an openly queer person and being part of an influential family? Forget about it.”
“None of that should ever matter,” I growl out, feeling my nerve endings igniting with fury. Quinnly has always been someone who marches to the beat of her own drum, not wanting any labels. But we all support her through it, and I would kill anyone who tries to treat her differently because of it. Not that she needs that from us. My little menace of a sister is great at taking care of her own problems.
“But it does for some. And it did for me . . . it left me feeling unlovable most of my life.”
“I’m sorry, Axe. I despise you because you’re my captor, but as a person I actually really like you. I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve that. No one should ever feel that way.”
He breaks out in a big goofy grin, which makes me smile. “You called me Axe.”
I sigh, but there’s a small smile on my face. “I guess I did.”
He winks at me before continuing, “I appreciate that. Especially coming from my little Belle .”
“‘Cause of the kidnapping?”
“Precisely. And I hear you like to read, making it perfect.”
I purse my lips to hide my smile. “But you’re not my beast.”
“No, that would be your . . . Killer, wasn’t it?” he says playfully.
“Yeah . . . Killer. But I won’t be falling for mine,” I try to say sternly, but my voice trembles.
One side of his lips lifts in a grin as he looks at me. “Sure, you can tell yourself that.”
I bite my lip not wanting to continue with this conversation. “I think what I will tell you is goodnight, I’m exhausted.”
“Goodnight, Belle. Hope you’re able to keep the Beast out of your dreams.”
“Goodnight, Axe!” I yell at him, trying hard not to chuckle. “You’re too much.”
“This is the start of a beautiful friendship, mi bella !”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah . . .” I say, getting up and heading for the spiral staircase. I can’t help but smile as I do, because part of me believes him. Being here with him feels like meeting a new friend, but one that you feel this weird instant connection with and want to talk for hours.
I stop as I get to the bottom of the steps—my hand grasping the railing. I shake out my head and body lightly to snap myself out of whatever I’m feeling. Maybe I should go see a psychiatrist once I get out, this is cuckoo-bananas talk. Friendship with my kidnapper? Falling for my stalker? What. The. Actual. Fuck?
These conflicting thoughts keep swirling around my head as I make my way back to the room. I haven’t been locked in the room since my first night here. I have more freedom to roam around, but it’s been made clear that it would be impossible to leave the mansion itself. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I’m not in a big rush to find out.
I feel exhausted from everything and just want to go to bed. Maybe I’ll wake up with a more solid game plan. Not being able to help myself when I see an open door with a small light on, I peek inside. It’s floor-to-ceiling books. I snort out when I see the ladder. Belle and the Beast indeed.
I take a deep inhale of the library. It smells like mahogany and teakwood. Walking over to the books, I can’t help but trail my fingers over the spines as I move—taking in all the titles. Some of them are my old favorites, but some are books on my to-be-read list. My eyes scrunch as I notice a note on folded white cardstock on one of the shelves. It’s addressed to me.
My lips are at war with wanting to smile, but also frown. Instead I let my curiosity take me to the bedroom. I’ll be back to the library when I finish the book he left on my nightstand that first night.
When I make it to the room, I see that there’s a cup of warm chamomile tea with another note that says “For your nightmares.” My heart skips a beat at the gesture. I only told him about them earlier today. And it also makes me realize that I haven’t had one since I’ve been here.
Two nights and no nightmares? That’s the longest I’ve gone in years.
I freeze when every single one of my organs feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice.
What’s wrong with me?
I’m only here for one reason.
To take down Killian Morel once and for all.
Why do I suddenly feel conflicted about that?
That fucking sexual tension is killing me. Maybe we can just fuck once? I can slit his throat during sex, right? Maybe after an orgasm . . . or two. Get it out of my system and get him out of the world.
I shove my face into my pillow and sigh. “Ugh!” I’ve officially lost all my marbles.