Ruin & Rule

“You want me to answer yours.”

He huffed. “Fine. My boss is in there.” He looked to the tall, threatening building, then back to me. “Shit, I didn’t think this through.”

He massaged the back of his neck, eyeing me coldly. “I’m so used to coming here—I didn’t think about visitor’s passes or what the hell I’d do with you.”

My skin crawled at the thought of entering such a place. “I don’t want to go with you.”

He chuckled. “You and me both. There’s no way I’m parading you in front of Wallstreet. Even if I could get you in.”

“Wallstreet?”

He smashed his lips together, then snapped. “None of your—”

“Goddamn business.” I finished for him, attempting a small smile, even though I felt exposed and entirely too vulnerable to be outside Florida State Penitentiary.

Yesterday I thought having no memory was a blessing—granting me strength where I might’ve been catatonic with terror. But now… now I felt as if strangers knew more about me than I ever would, that my secrets were floating around unclaimed, drifting further and further out of reach.

Kill rubbed a hand over his jaw, wincing as his injury made itself known. Then his eyes lit up, and he pulled out a cell phone from his back pocket. “I’ll call a babysitter. Keep an eye on you.”

“I’m not babysitting a fucking traitor.”

I jolted at the violence of the sentence. Questions followed swiftly. Who was the traitor? Me? Was my dream from my past or just a figment of my imagination?

My fingers tickled my side as I traced the burns below. Is that how it happened? A house fire?

I couldn’t stomach being around other people. Kill was my link. The green-eyed answer who I needed to keep close. I didn’t want anyone else.

My head snapped up. “Wait! I’ll stay. You have my word I won’t run.”

He paused, his thumb hovering over the screen. “I don’t trust you.”

“You do. I proved you can last night.”

He shook his head. “Last night and today are two entirely different existences, sweetheart.”

I climbed off the bike. “I agree. But you could’ve left me tied to the bed at your place. Why didn’t you?”

His jaw worked in anger. “Contrary to what you think of me, I only tie up women who want me to.” The way his voice dropped, as if that was a lie, sent a small ripple through my stomach. “I didn’t know how long I’d be. Couldn’t risk it.”

“And you think bringing me into public, where I could scream and bring attention, is a better alternative?”

His forehead furrowed, green eyes blazing. “You’re saying you would’ve preferred to be chained to the bed, unable to move, with no food, water, or bathroom facilities for the entire day?”

I blinked. “No.”

“There you go, then. You’re welcome, by the way.” He rolled his eyes. Stepping forward, he crowded me with his large bulk, pressing me against his bike. “Two choices. I’ll be the gentleman and let you decide which you want.”

My stomach somersaulted with the fierceness of his stare. My skin prickled and my fingers itched to touch him—just to find proof that I knew him in some small, teeny tiny way.

He raised his hand, cupping my cheek. The roughness of his thumb caressed my bottom lip. My skin tingled and begged for more, but his touch wasn’t sweet. It was almost vicious with intensity. “Two choices. Number one—you continue to be the odd girl you are and stay right here, don’t move a fucking inch, and wait patiently till I come back.”

Oxygen played hard to get as his thumb trailed down my throat, pressing on the very delicate and extremely vulnerable spot at the base of my neck. “And option two?” I whispered.

His voice lowered, rasping over my flesh. “Option two only comes into effect if you lose your mind and decide to tell the police what’s going on here.” He cocked his head. “Are you leaning toward that particular option?”

My eyes refused to move from his lips. Full, curved, way too sensual for a man who still reeked of blood and death. “Not really,” I breathed.

And if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.

My heart twisted at how blank and scary my future was. How unknown. Each decision came with consequences that I wouldn’t know the outcome, or even how I would react, until it came to pass. I strained for another unlocking—begging my mind to be kind. But only empty blackness returned.

The world around us paused, slowing until nothing else mattered but heartbeats and breath. Arthur moved his fingers, stroking my collarbone. “In that case, option two isn’t required.” He bowed into me, whispering against my ear. “I don’t relish the thought of hogtying you, gagging those beautiful lips of yours, and throwing you into a Dumpster to wait for me. Chances are you’d die from either the trash fumes or the heat.”

My heart raced. “You wouldn’t.”

He chuckled. “I admit from the brief interaction we’ve had, I’ve given you the wrong impression of me. You’ve seen me weak.” He prodded the tip of his forefinger against my temple. “Made you believe that I’m… what was the word… decent.”

I sucked in a breath. “I know you’re not weak.”

He smiled hard. “Damn right, Forgetful Girl. I’m not. And you’d do well to remember that. You do not want me as your enemy.” Something in his tone had my skin prickling. Enemy. He spoke from experience.