Page 54 of The Woman

“Avery,” I say from across the room after watching her for a minute.

She doesn’t acknowledge me as I approach, but as soon as I’m standing right beside her, she turns to me with that vacant look and half smile.

“Hello. Can I do anything for you?” she asks.

I squint my eyes at her. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she asks, blinking innocently, her features remaining in the exact same position.

I grip her chin, tilting it up to face me, and then take another step closer. She doesn’t falter. I have to hand it to her. She can pull it off pretty well. Too well. And I don’t like it one bit.

“Don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you aren’t the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met.” I brush my thumb over her skin. “Like there aren’t a million and one things going on behind these exquisite eyes of yours. And like these lips don’t want to hurl insults at me right now.”

She finally sighs, the facade cracking. “You left me alone again with nothing to do. And without saying goodbye.”

“I needed to get some work done.”

She turns her head to the side, causing my hand to drop. “You could have taken me.”

“You would have been a distraction.”

One of those irritated huffs that she does so well leaves her lips, and she starts walking away from me. “It’s nice to know that I’m simply a distraction for you.”

I reach out and grab her by the upper arm before she can get too far, and then pull her back in so that she lands against my chest with a thump.

“You’re a fucking distraction because all I would be thinking about is what you are thinking about. Wondering what’s going on in that mind of yours, whether or not you’re hungry, and watching the way your hair tumbles over your shoulder when you lean forward for the next magazine to read.“ Lifting a handful of her hair, I let it sift through my fingers. “Yes. You’re a distraction. Now, go and get dressed in something with no sleeves. We have somewhere to be.”

Chapter 24

Phoenix

We pull up to a building, and I put the car in park just as tiny raindrops start decorating the windshield. Lifting my phone from my pocket, I double-check the address to make sure we’re at the right place.

“Are you . . . are getting rid of me now?” Avery asks from the passenger side.

I shift my gaze to Avery, my brows pulling together as I take in her rounded eyes and slightly panicked look, and then glance around the area, seeing it through her eyes.

There are no signs on the building, no indication of where we might be. For all she knows, this is where WOUNs like her are brought. And that’s my fault. I didn’t tell her where I was taking her, a sick little version of holding the power.

“No,” I reply, turning back to her. In fact, quite the opposite. “I don’t need to remind you how to behave, do I?” At the look on her face, I add, “Alright. Let’s go.”

With still no explanation as to what we’re doing, I get out, walk around to her side of the car, and reach for her hand. She takes hold of it, seeming to relax within my grasp as I walk us into the building. The main door opens into a bright hallway with a couple of doors on either side, but it’s the first door that I want.

We step into what looks like a waiting room of sorts, a desk sitting on the opposite side of the room with a man covered in tattoos and hair in a bun bent over, looking as if he’s drawing something.

I peek down at Avery and catch her staring at the man as if she’s never seen someone who looks like him before, and then she looks up at the walls lined with a mixture of drawings and paintings, her eyes curious.

I squeeze her hand, a quick reminder of what she’s doing, though I’m sure if he were looking up at us, there would be nothing noteworthy about her stare. She quickly glances up at me, a brow raised in question, before facing forward again. I’m sure she’s figured out where we are. Perhaps she’s wondering why we are here.

The fact of the matter is, the second the idea was presented to me, it took root in my mind, and I knew I was going to make it happen. Sooner rather than later. The compulsion to possessively mark her as mine has me feeling electrified and the buzz won’t cease until it’s done.

But there’s also a measure of guilt mixed in with that from the fact that I’m taking her choice away. I didn’t ask her if this is what she wants, a strange notion, I admit, asking a woman what she wants, but seeing as this is a unique situation with her having thoughts and feelings, I probably should have.

And yet, it doesn’t stop me.

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