Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Why? So he can have more time to torture me before he offs me?
“You don’t want to do that,” I say quickly.
Hand squeezing tighter around my wrists, he leans into me once more. “Oh, but I do.”
This time when his face nears my face as if he’s going to kiss me, I don’t turn away.
I meet his eyes and hold them.
“People will notice I’m missing,” I point out.
Some of the glee fades from his eyes. “Like who?”
“My son’s babysitter for one,” I rush to say. “I need to pick him up in an hour.”
Body tensing against mine, he asks, “How old is your son?”
Picturing Abel’s face, I take a breath before I answer. “Nine months.”
Jude relaxes a little. “So he’s just a babe?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He tenses up again and his voice becomes harsh. “And the father?”
It would be so easy to lie and say Kyle would miss me as well, but I get the feeling it would be a mistake.
I lick my lips nervously then flush when I notice his eyes intently following the movement. “He’s not in the picture, but he’ll eventually notice.”
“What about your family?”
“They’ll notice, too.”
It’s not a complete lie. My uncle will eventually notice my disappearance. Whether he does anything about it is another question.
“I see,” Jude says sharply.
His hand squeezing rhythmically around my wrists, I literally feel him weighing my life on the scales inside his head.
I can only hope that making me disappear will cause him more complications than he wants to deal with.
The sound of a door banging open echoes down the alley.
A deep voice calls out, “Jude?”
I start to look towards the club, but Jude slaps his hand over my mouth and pushes his palm hard against my lips.
His eyes bore into mine, warning me not to try anything.
I know better than to call out for help to whoever is calling for him.
What I don’t know is why he doesn’t want them to find him.
Is he trying to protect me?
Or is there some other nefarious purpose?
Turning his body, he uses it to conceal me in his shadow from whoever is looking.
We just stare at each other, locked in this strange moment of time.
Both hoping the person decides to leave, but most likely for different reasons.
Until the door finally bangs shut again.
Removing the hand covering my mouth, Jude asks, “What will you do if I let you go?”
Is he toying me? Playing with his food before he eats it?
His eyes light up with a strange gleam. “Will you feel grateful, hmm?”
“Yes,” I exhale, hoping with every fiber of my being this isn’t a sick trick.
Jude breathes in deep and smiles. “How grateful?”
“So grateful I’ll never be able to pay you back,” I insist.
His voice drops close to a silky purr. “Mmmm, that does sound nice.”
Against my will, I find myself shivering a little.
His obvious pleasure having an unwanted effect on me.
Smile growing at my reaction, he asks, “Do you plan to run?”
Is he serious?
I’m going to grab Abel and run as far as we can get.
“Ah…” Reading the answer in my eyes, he pulls back. “You do. A shame.”
Feeling my chance to escape slipping through my fingers, I shake my head and rush to say, “I don’t.”
Arching a brow and smirking, it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. “No? If I let you go, you fully plan on showing up to work tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I say so vehemently I half believe it.
When he’s quiet again, staring at me in that way that makes me feel like he’s dissecting me, I fear I haven’t been convincing enough.
Starting to panic, I consider doing what I should have done all along.
Seducing him somehow.
But then he suddenly says, “Very well, I’ll let you go for now.”
I’m so shocked I just stare at him stupidly as he releases me and steps back.
Is this really happening?
It feels too good to be true.
Looking me up and down, he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Dropping down to one knee, he picks up my discarded heel and grabs my leg.
Slipping my shoe back on for me, he says, “Consider this…. my gift.”
Gently setting my foot back down, he slowly rises and backs up to give me more room. “A… declaration of my future intentions, if you will.”
I have no fucking clue what he means by that, and I’m not even going to bother trying to figure it out.
With all the space between us now, I have to resist the urge to do exactly what I promised not to do.
My legs begging me to run.
When he makes no move to stop me, I take a hesitant step to the side.
Then another.
Slowly edging my way back to the club.
Once I’m halfway to the door, I feel like I can take him for his word.
For whatever reason, he’s deciding to trust me and is truly letting me go.