Chapter Fifteen
I run my fingers delicately over my throat, the spot tender to the touch. I’m not stupid. I know he was trying to kill me—unless he gets off on almost killing women. Up until that moment though, it had been the best sex I’d ever experienced… But now that I’m stuck in nothing but his shirt knowing he almost took my life?
I feel sick.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I stare into the dimness. The light from the stairwell illuminates the basement, but not enough to stave off all the darkness. I lean my head back, resting it against the wall. I take a deep breath, my mind dragging me down into memories I don’t want to relive.
“You can’t just lock yourself up in here and grieve forever.” Jared’s voice is strained as he leans against the doorway of our bedroom. “Your mom wouldn’t want this. I miss the Emma I married.”
“Then get out,” I snap at him, my bottle of wine at my feet.
“Drinking fucks with your POTS.”
“Get out.”
“Emma, you’re killing yourself—it’s been almost six months. I can’t stand to see you this way, please. Just come downstairs with me. Please.”
I shake my head, anger rolling through my body. “Leave me alone.”
I hear the door close in my head, and I wonder what would’ve happened had I gotten up and gone with him. Would he still have fallen in love with his secretary? Or would he have given me a chance to heal and get back to being myself? But could I have ever gotten back to being myself?
Maybe I owe Jared an apology for the way I treated him—for the way I locked him out and refused to ever let him back in. He tried. I had to give it to him, he tried really fucking hard. I just kept slamming the door in his face. Who even am I anymore?
I let a faceless man fuck me in a shower, and then try to kill me.
Maybe I should’ve opened up to Lydia about what I was going through, beyond just Jared seeing his secretary. She offered to come and see me, and I blamed Jared. But it wasn’t Jared. It was me. I didn’t want her to see me because she’d see me. But now I wish she would’ve.
The sound of the basement door opening catches my attention, and I suck in a breath, trying to gain my composure, readying myself for whatever is to come. I don’t know what time it is, but I know I’m starving.
“Food,” a deep voice announces his presence at the bottom of the stairwell. I don’t look up, but I recognize the boots on the feet approaching. “Had a dinner party tonight, so you get something better than the shit I make.”
“Great,” I mutter as I eye the small glass Tupperware sitting in front of me. It’s some kind of casserole, reminding me of the chicken, bacon, ranch recipe that Lydia always swore by. My eyes land on the fork. Maybe I should stab him with it.
“You should eat.” His voice grates my nerves as he steps away from me. I expect him to leave then, taking his dog with him, but instead, the sound of a chair being drug across the floor fills the room. He parks it right in front of the daybed and takes a seat.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Why won’t you look at me?” His sharp question catches me off guard, but I shake my head.
“You tried to kill me.” I drag the Tupperware toward me, the smell causing my mouth to water.
“And?”
“And that’s pretty fucked up to do to someone after—” My words cease as I look up, meeting a pair of dark, golden eyes. They’re not hazel by any means, but the chocolate iris is such a deep and dark brown, the light hits them and turns them gold. My lips part as I take in the rest of his face. The shadow of stubble lining his jaw, his strong masculine nose, and the way his full lips are pressed into an unmoving line—it all serves to surprise me.
I look like a fucking rugrat in comparison.
Maybe once upon a time, before the extra fifteen pounds, and the lack of self-care, I could’ve caught the eye of a man like this, but not in my current state. No way. He fucked me to kill me, and that only makes me more determined to somehow get him back.
I stab the fork into the food, taking a bite. I nearly cry, the taste so similar to what Lydia always makes when we get together. Someone must’ve had the same recipe.
“Tell me about your husband.”
“What?” I nearly choke on the bite. “Why?”
He shrugs, and watching his lips move is a strange phenomenon. “I just want to know. Tell me what broke you, Little Red.”
I can’t tell if he’s being serious, but I don’t want to talk about it. “Tell me what broke you, Big Bad Wolf.” His lips tick upward, and I realize I almost made him smile.
“Okay.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I was born broken. A child of the system since I was four years old. Parents died. I got taken in at eleven by a guy who was the closest thing to a father I ever had.”
“That sounds like a happy ending,” I say, taking another bite of my food.
“No one said he was a good dad,” he levels with me, his eyes holding mine. “He trained me to do bad things to people and accept payment for it.”
I nod, swallowing the bite. “What kind of bad things? Like what you did to me in the shower?”
He tilts his head. “Depends.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Explain.”
“I fucked you because I wanted to, Emma, and I tried to kill you because I’m supposed to.” The flatness in his voice made it almost eerie. “And that won’t change.”
“So, you’re going to kill me. Still.”
“Probably.”
“That’s not one hundred percent,” I reason, a glimmer of hope hitting me.
“I’ve never failed a job.”
“Of course, you haven’t,” I laugh dryly, setting the container down. “Because a man like you would never let someone innocent survive.”
“Who said you’re innocent?”
The accusation hits a nerve. “I’m not deserving of death. I might’ve been a shitty wife, but I got my karma. He found someone else. He found someone who cared about him, and he still comes begging me to take him back—when I don’t deserve it.”
“He fucked someone else, and you’re blaming yourself? I thought you were smarter than that, Emma.” His voice stays cool and collected while I feel like I’m losing my hold on my emotions.
“You don’t know—”
“I’m sitting here, trying to know you,” he barks back at me, cutting me off. “Clearly, something is fucked up between us. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I let you live longer than twenty-four hours after I caught you, or if it’s something else. But the way I see it at this point, is that we’re both royally fucked.”
“Just let me go,” I say stupidly. “It’s not that hard.”
“I can’t.”
My shoulders slump. “Because it’ll hurt your pride to let someone get away?”
He laughs, running his hands over his face. “If I fail this, someone else will pick it up and kill you.”
“Who hired you?”
“I don’t know.”
I bite down on my bottom lip with frustration. “How can you not know? How can you take someone’s life and not know the reason you’re doing it?”
He looks me dead in the eye, bearing a darkness that causes me to visibly shudder. “Because I don’t give a fuck.”
“And now you do?”
“Now things are complicated,” he says with a sigh. “Beyond my desire for you.”
I swallow hard, shifting on the bed. I don’t really know what to do with the information he’s suddenly offered up, but I have to admit, I feel weary. He could easily be playing me. He could be toying with my mind, playing games with me until I end up mentally insane.
I’m already on my way there, anyway.
I push the food away and look up at him. “Where’s your dad now?”
“Dead. He died years ago.” There’s a slight influx of emotion in his voice and take a moment to consider how much I want to press.
I decide to take my chance. “What happened?”
“He was killed.” He leans back in his chair, and as he does, a phone begins to vibrate. He digs into the pocket of his jeans and pulls it out, staring down at the screen with a frown.
“Your girlfriend?” I take the jab, knowing good and well that it’s childish, but honestly, the sight of him with a phone reminds me of the disparity between us.
He looks up from the phone, narrowing his eyes at me. “So, you’re the jealous type?”
“Nope,” I scoff, directing my attention to the dog laying beside me. “I just would hate for your girlfriend to find out you have a woman in your basement.”
“You don’t lie well,” he says as he stands to his feet. “You should work on that.”
“Maybe I did it on purpose,” I retort, challenging him.
He leans over the bed, his eyes meeting mine. “Let’s not forget who’s the one locked in the basement, Little Red. Because whether either of us like it or not, someone’s blood is going to spill over this.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as chills roll down my spine, his cologne filling my lungs. He’s so fucking close, that I could kiss him with barely any movement. And the thought of doing so should disturb me, but I”m unphased by the way he just threatened me. Maybe I really am going insane.
He lingers there, the air charged around us. However, before anything else happens, he backs away. His phone buzzes again, and he lets out a grunt before turning to the dog. “Come on.”
My heart sinks as Major jumps off the bed, following him out of the room. I still don’t know his name. I don’t know where I am, either. But Major was nice company while he was here with me, and as they disappear up the steps, I’m left with myself again.
And I don’t like it.