Page 92 of Break the Ice
Or myself.
…what the fuck is wrong with me?
“Marisse,” he says slowly, his tone low and testy. “Get back in the limo.”
“I need answers about what’s going on? Who’s framing me for what? Until you explain what’s going on, I’ll stay where I am. Thanks.”
It happens in the next blink of my eye—Rafe stalks toward me at a fast stride. He overtakes me, his rough grip on my elbow as he drags me away from the clearing. I could fight him on it, but I don’t. I let him steal me away though I hold my head up high, stubbornly mute.
We disappear between the trees. Deeper into the night’s thick cloak of darkness. For a while, the only sound for what feels like miles is the squelch of our feet as we stride off into the unknown. We walk until we’re so far away from the limo and Mitch, I’m not sure he’d hear me if I screamed.
Rafe stops us among a clump of trees, twirling me around, backing me up against the nearest trunk. He looms only inches away yet shrouded in such darkness, it’s like I’m staring up at a shadow man. No features, no discernible details. Just a black mask of intense fury and frustration.
I’m no less pissed.
Once again, I’ve found myself in a precarious situation that involves murder and disposing of a body. Once again, I’m at the mercy of Rafe Golding and his fucking recklessness. Without him, I never would’ve tried to cover up Mr. Hawk’s death.
Why would I have when I’m innocent?!
I’d never intentionally put myself in a situation where I could be found out.
It would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do—and yet it’s happened anyway. Rafe’s taken control of everything and he’s gradually eclipsed me to the point I’m held hostage. I can’t ever walk away without the threat of him exposing my secret.
My long-time nightmare confirmed.
Now, on top of that, he’s keeping things from me. He’s aware someone’s framing me and won’t divulge who.
Tension clenches the wet air we breathe. We’re acutely aware of the other’s presence, the other’s body. We’re tuned into the conflicting mix of lust and loathing that sums up the arrangement we’ve found ourselves in. I can’t stand him, yet I can’t keep myself from fucking him.
It’s life’s paradox trapped inside a box of intense orgasms, tied neatly by a silky bow of temptation.
I know Rafe feels the same. He can’t resist me even when he tries. Even during a moment like this where the anger he feels toward me rides as a third dark passenger.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he grinds out through what has to be clenched teeth and a tight jaw. With balled up fists and pulsing, protruding veins.
“I didn’t agree to this! I wanted nothing to do with what you did to Mr. Blackman—just like I wanted nothing to do with what happened to Mr. Hawk!”
“That’s rich considering you’re the reason both are dead.”
“I can’t control what you do?—”
He barks out a laugh in my face, shifting enough so that a sliver of moonlight falls onto him and reveals the grin twisted onto his lips. “You can’t be fucking serious right now. All that’s happened—everything that I’ve done has been to keep you out of trouble! And you’ve done nothing but behave like you’ve got a stick up your ass!”
“Maybe it’s because I’m being blackmailed. Now I find out I’m being framed. Get away from me!” I move to step around him but am promptly cut off by his tight grip on my forearms, pushing me back against the trunk of the tree. Frustration reaches new heights as he blocks me again and again from escaping out from under him. A scream shatters from my throat and echoes across the dark, misty landscape. “I SAID GET AWAY!”
“NO!” he roars back, his long fingers clenched shut around my wrists. “We’re in this together! But you’re going to have to fucking trust me, alright? What part of that don’t you understand?”
“Everything! Because I never agreed to be in this with you! Something you don’t seem to understand—I want nothing to do with you.”
The struggling, pushing, shoving, all comes to an abrupt and immediate halt. The fight in me fades and Rafe goes still, even with his grip enduring. We simply remain where we are, pressed against the huge oak tree we’ve stepped under.
The sliver of moonlight has migrated away from us, leaving nothing in its wake. Just the pitch-black abyss we’ve found ourselves in.
Rafe looms closer, more than invading my space. It’s like he’s about to consume me whole, the air between us ceasing to exist. My lungs come up empty the next time I try to draw a breath, peering up at the shadow that’s become his face.
I can feel him. His emotions, his energy, the heat he emanates.
The visceral desire he has for me.
