Chapter 3
Mia
My head is spinning by the time we pull up to Killian’s apartment.
The night that I was rescued from Red, I had a dream about Killian. That I was looking into his stormy ocean eyes.
Only now I’m realizing that it wasn’t a dream.
Killian opens the car door for me, and I’m waiting for him to take the zip ties off my ankles, but he doesn’t. He literally hoists me over his shoulder, and I scream as a rush of dizziness crashes over me.
“Killian!” I exclaim. He just ignores me and continues walking towards the complex.
I’m confused, because Killian didn’t live in Briarwood when I knew him. He was in Rosebrook Falls, which is hours away from here.
I know that I said that I made a lot of enemies and that people were after me; but Killian being one of them wasn’t on my radar.
I don’t like to think about him, and I try not to.
We met a year ago, at a party. I was crashing with a friend who lived in the town next to Rosebrook Falls, and I somehow made my way over there.
I took one look at Killian and instantly wanted to fuck him. He was the hottest guy I had ever seen, easily.
Tall, lean but muscular, covered in tattoos. Jet black hair that’s always tousled and messy. And those stormy ocean eyes.
Killian apparently felt the same way that I did, and we made out in the bathroom at the party. I went home with him, and then I somehow just never left.
He thinks I betrayed him, but I didn’t. I mean, I did. But not because I wanted to.
He jogs up the flight of stairs, and then he unlocks the door to his apartment and carries me inside. It’s not until the door is shut and locked behind us that he finally puts me down.
I’m dizzy, and I sway a little bit as he steadies me.
“Where are we?” I demand, and he chuckles.
“My apartment.”
“You live in Briarwood now?”
“I don’t owe you any answers, Mia,” he says, really putting an emphasis on my name.
Killian knew me as Kim. When things started to get serious between us, I wanted to tell him my real name. But I never quite found the right time to finally say it.
“Yes, you do,” I shoot back at him angrily. “You kidnapped me!”
“Kidnapped you?” he asks, his eyes full of amusement. The smirk never leaves his lips, and I wish that my hands were free because I want to punch him.
“Yes,” I reply indignantly. “Why am I here?”
“I told you,” he replies. He throws his keys on the table, then he bends down so he’s kneeling in front of me. “You’re going to repay me.”
“How?”
He doesn’t answer me. He looks up at me as he takes a knife out of his pocket, and my eyes widen in disbelief.
“If you kick me, you’ll regret it,” he says, and I realize that he’s not going to murder me; he’s cutting off the zip ties.
I say nothing, and he laughs loudly.
“Tell me you’re not going to kick me, Mia,” he says now, his tone sarcastic. “Otherwise, they’re not coming off.”
I don’t want to obey him. He’s being such an asshole.
I also don’t want my ankles to be zip tied all night, though, so I grit my teeth and speak up.
“I won’t kick you,” I mutter, and he grins up at me.
“Good girl,” he says, and I hate that his words cause a rush of heat to flow straight to my core.
Despite only knowing each other for six months or so, Killian really knew me. I shared things with him that I had never shared with anyone before.
He also knows about every single desire, every fantasy that I’ve ever had. I shouldn’t be surprised that he used it against me, and I guess I’m not. But it still hurts.
“Come on,” he says now, guiding me through the living room and down a hallway. He opens a door and brings us into what I’m assuming is his bedroom.
“Killian, please,” I beg him. He looks at me, and I swear I see a flash of kindness, of warmth, cross his face for a moment, but it’s gone so quickly that I wonder if I imagined it.
“Sucks to not have answers,” he says with a shrug. “Doesn’t it?”
I want to tell him that I’m sorry. I suddenly have an urge to cry, but I blink back my tears.
I didn’t want to leave Killian all those months ago. I didn’t have a choice.
Angelo found me. He had been watching me, and I had no idea. He knew way too much about Killian and I was terrified that he’d kill him. Or that Killian would try to be a hero and get himself killed.
I know Killian’s tough. But despite the facade he’s showing me right now, he does care. I’ve seen his softer side.
Angelo Corso doesn’t have a softer side. He’s ruthless and deadly and I knew that he’d kill Killian in two seconds if I didn’t do what he asked.
“What are we doing?” I ask him.
“Going to bed,” he replies, and I stare at him incredulously.
“What?”
“I’ll uncuff you,” he tells me. “If you try anything, I’ll leave you bound and gagged for the rest of the night.”
Another rush of desire courses through me at his words, and I bite my lip. What the fuck is wrong with me? I tell myself that I’m just drunk and that’s the only reason why I’m suddenly so horny for him.
Even I don’t believe my own lie, though.
Killian’s watching me closely, and that stupid smirk that somehow manages to turn me on but simultaneously makes me feel murderous is back on his lips.
“Let me guess,” he says as he eyes me curiously. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re such an asshole,” I snap at him, and he laughs loudly, clearly amused.
He grabs a tee shirt from his bureau, and then he walks back towards me and uncuffs me.
I contemplate doing something now that I’m free, but I don’t doubt for a second that Killian would leave me bound and gagged all night, and I’m too drunk to actually manage a successful getaway.
“Here,” he says, passing the tee shirt to me. “Pajamas.”
“What?”
“We’re going to bed,” he tells me.
“No, I’m not-"
“Keep it up, Mia,” he says, his tone a threat. “See how far you can push me.”
A rush of anxiety flares inside of me, and I start rambling.
“Killian, please just let me go,” I beg. “I’m sorry, okay? What I did before was fucked up, I know, but I-"
“Don’t,” he snaps. It’s only one word, but he says it with so much venom that my voice literally dies in my throat.
I hurt him. I’m not sure why it’s the first time it’s really dawned on me, but it is.
I think that I just assumed that I cared about Killian more than he cared about me back then. I thought that I was in love with him, though I never told him that.
I knew he liked me, but we were smoking a lot of weed together at that time, and I thought I was just another girl to him. I couldn’t figure out if he really liked me, or if I was just convenient because I was there.
Maybe he cared more than I thought.
“Put the tee shirt on and climb in my bed,” he commands.
“I’m fine with my sweatshirt,” I tell him, and he nods.
I quickly take my jeans off, grateful that my hoodie is so long that it goes down to my knees. I surprise myself by listening to what he says, and I climb into his bed.
I’m not prepared for him to grab one of my wrists and cuff it to the bedpost.
I stare at him incredulously as he makes his way around the other side of the bed and climbs in next to me.
“Killian-"
He grabs my free wrist and cuffs it, then he cuffs himself.
“Can’t have you running, can we?” he asks, grinning at me.
Any guilt I felt moments ago about how I hurt him fades as he continues to look at me with that diabolical smile.
“I hate you,” I spit out, and he chuckles.
“Don’t worry,” he retorts. “The feeling’s mutual. Goodnight, Kitten.”
His use of my old nickname makes my stomach flip, and I bite my lip to keep myself from crying.
Even though Killian knew me as Kim, I slipped one day and told him my middle name, which is Katerina. Somehow that turned into Kitten, and it stuck.
I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t a small part of me that feels safe right now. That likes being cuffed to Killian, to his bed.
Jesus Mia, I think, inwardly groaning. How fucked up are you?
I push my thoughts away, which is relatively easy because I’m still slightly spinning.
Killian’s bed is comfortable, and I drift off easily, completely and utterly spent.