Chapter 20 Serena #2
Swallowing hard, he breaks the silence. “I know where your distrust is coming from. I don’t blame you for it. For doubting me. The guys have helped, sure, but they’ve never crossed a line you wouldn’t have been comfortable with. And you have”—his face contorts with agony—“never been a game to me.”
It’s everything I wanted to hear. But how can I truly believe him? I guess that’s the scary part—the choice you make when you hand your most vulnerable self over to another person. Trust isn’t something you can see or hold on to; it’s earned.
Reaching out, he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers as he strides forward, pulling me along with him. “I’ll show you.”
What?
“What do you mean?” I ask, following along with him as he turns down a long hallway with vaulted ceilings, delicate chandeliers hanging from it.
He slams to a stop out of nowhere, positioned between two doors, one on either side of the path. Turning to face me, he gestures to the one at my right.
“W-what’s in there?” My voice is a stuttering, nervous whisper.
“Everything,” he exhales, like this is the moment of relief he’s been desperate for.
Tentatively, I reach out and grab the doorknob, twisting the handle until the door unlatches and gradually opens with a gentle push.
Oh. My. God.
I don’t know where to look or what to focus on first. It’s … a lot to take in.
It’s an office, transformed into the hub for all things stalking Serena Rafferty. In the center of the far wall is a massive desk, with at least ten monitors hanging above it, each one depicting a live feed into my house, my office, and—oh my God—there’s even one in my car.
“Bates …” I trail off, stepping fully into the room as my eyes wander to the table to the right.
It looks like a Michaels store threw up. Glue, paper, stickers, lace, stamps. I mean, the guys could start their own card company with the tools in here.
Slowly, I start to turn back to face him, but my sight catches on a pile of stuff in the corner. A dog bed, embroidered with Freddie’s name; a plethora of toys; endless bags of treats. Whoever robbed Michaels must’ve hit a Petco, too, by the looks of it.
“You did all this?” I murmur, my voice barely audible.
Then I jump, caught off guard by the sound of Freddie barking on one of the cameras.
The sound fills the room, and I don’t notice Bates stepping beside me until my skin is humming, desperate to feel him.
It’s fucked up, absolute insanity, that I’m looking at a display of cameras hidden in my home as I stand in an entire room dedicated to watching me.
“Countless cameras, a shrine of my favorite things, a stockpile of gifts for Freddie … you’re actually crazy,” I murmur, glancing up at him.
His face falls, the inner corners of his eyebrows twitching with sorrow.
I should run; this is absurd.
But there’s not an ounce of fear in my body.
The only thing I’m feeling right now is intense, unbridled affection for the man who fought for us when I was scared—a common theme as of late, apparently.
I blamed it on the rule and the boundary that my dad set long ago, but I think—more than anything—I was scared to pursue a relationship with Bates because I knew he saw right through me.
His gaze was always piercing, like he could read every thought in my mind—the good, the bad, the dirty, dark, and twisted.
I think maybe we were always meant to end up together, some kind of wicked inevitability. Or maybe Bates has a way of controlling fate, and once he set his eyes on me, there was no escaping.
It’s about time I come to terms with what I want, regardless of what any man in my life may think, one way or the other.
Bates cuts me off as I open my mouth to speak.
He nervously rambles, and I can’t deny the hot man his romantic confession.
“I get that you’re mad with how I did things, that they were wrong and sneaky.
I’m aware of that, and to be frank, I also was aware the entire time I did it.
I didn’t care because I just … fuck, Serena.
” He exhales the curse and my name, his hands finding my body as he turns me to face him.
His fingers slide into my hair and he cups my jaw, tilting my head up to his.
His eyes penetrate mine, latching on to my soul as he pours his heart out.
“I couldn’t move on from that first night we met.
I couldn’t … breathe properly until you were mine.
I am a madman when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to earn your gaze.
I knew that you wouldn’t give the real us a chance, so I found a way into your life that didn’t break your rules. ”
I shrug, fighting an amusing grin. He certainly broke some moral ones, but I was a happy accomplice along the way.
His breathing quickens, his control waning fast.
The passion in his voice morphs, becoming possessive, reminding me of the man who dons the mask. “You’re mine. And you like it, belonging to me, and I, to you. Brand your name on my chest for all I care; I’ll heat the iron with a goddamn smile on my face.”
He’s panting, his forehead an inch from resting atop mine as he crumbles beneath my stare, falling apart right in front of me.
My lips wiggle, a quiet giggle slipping past … because I’m afraid that I’m just as insane as he is.
His words only make me surer of my choice to get out of my car and come in here, to stand before him and lay everything out on the table.
I never expected this side of him to emerge. I didn’t even know it existed. But I like it—because now I’m certain that this isn’t a joke to him. This is as real for him as it is for me. That’s all I needed—confirmation that this wasn’t some fantasized figment of my imagination.
Now I have two new choices.
To either be the good girl and let him out of his cage.
Or be the brat and poke him through the bars.
The answer is obvious.
Rising up onto my toes, I brush my nose against his, and he sucks in a breath. I repeat the motion, caressing the tip of his nose with mine.
A ragged breath rumbles through him, his restraint snapping.
Ghosting my lips across his, I whisper, “Where’s the iron?”
His gaze darkens in an instant as he inches away, the intense stare boring into me. I watch the shift in his face, the vulnerable Bates slipping away, being replaced by the dominant side that’s going to put me in my place.
And I can’t fucking wait.
He scoffs audibly, his hands sliding down my body, getting greedier and rougher by the second. “Are you messing with me right now, Little Cupid? Toying with me?”
Biting down on my bottom lip, I smile. “Be careful. I’m the one with the leash.”
Leaning down, he strokes his tongue across mine, teasing me with the taste of his kiss as his hands wrap around my hips, his fingers splaying out and digging in.
The deep, ragged, possessive voice I love so much growls into my mouth, “Not anymore.”