Page 130 of Broken Pact

The deep voice startles me, and I jerk to the side to see a familiar face. “What are you doing, Grant?”

My ex-boyfriend leans casually against the doorframe, a smug smile playing at his lips. “Is that any way to greet your man, Coraline?”

I struggle against my bonds, the plastic zip tie biting into my skin. “What the fuck, Grant. You’re not my anything.”

He chuckles, the sound mean. “Now, c’mon, sweetheart. I let you have your fun. Sow your oats and all that. But it’s time to come home now.”

My mind races, trying to make sense of the situation. “Why are we at Magnolia Lane?”

Grant pushes off the doorframe and saunters into the room, his footsteps heavy on the worn hardwood floor. Twilight spills through the lace curtains, casting eerie shadows across his face. He stops next to the bed, looming over me with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Magnolia Lane is the perfect place for us to start our life, Coraline. You spoke so fondly of your grandmother’s house. It’s not fair that she left it to your cousin.” His voice is soft, almost tender, but there’s an undercurrent of something dark and possessive.

I shrink back against the headboard, my heart hammering in my chest. “You’re insane,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “This is fucking nuts. You can’t just kidnap someone!”

He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. I rear back, bile rising in my throat.

“I’ve spent so much time on self-improvement for you, Coraline.”

I shake my head, fear clutching at my throat. “This isn’t self-improvement, Grant. This is a felony.” My mind races, frantically searching for a way out of this nightmare.

Grant’s fingers trail down my cheek to my neck, his touch feather-light but threatening. His fingers tighten around my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You should be grateful for all I’ve done for us. You never even thanked me for the gifts.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reason, twisting my wrists together to try and loosen the zip tie. I’m pretty sure it only works this way in the movies, but I have to try something.

He uses his grip on my chin to turn my head one direction and then the other. “C’mon, Coraline. Stupidity isn’t very becoming. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I grit my teeth. “I really don’t.”

He turns my face toward him and leans in close. “When you said we needed space, you told me it was because I don’t listen to you. Well, I’ve spent the last few months getting really good at listening. And watching. And taking care of problems.”

I wet my lips with my tongue, fear a slick coat down my spine. I’m almost afraid to ask. “What did you do?”

He drags his nose down mine, and it takes everything inside of me not to gag at his proximity. “When that guy slipped you a roofie at the concert, I took care of him for you. Your precious Reaper punched him, but I killed him. I killed him so he’d never try to hurt you again.”

My blood turns to ice in my veins as Grant’s words sink in. The concert, the guy who slipped something into my drink. Jasper punched him and security took him away. But Grant . . . he couldn’t have . . .

"You killed him?" I whisper, horror choking me.

Grant smiles like he’s proud of his accomplishments. “I did what I had to do to protect you, Coraline. Just like I took care of those assholes who were bothering you at your bakery. And again, your little Reaper just busted a knee and broke a hand. That’s fucking child’s play compared to what I put them through. And don’t get me started on the guy who spilled his disgusting beer on you. He was a screamer.”

Nausea roils in my stomach, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose my lunch all over my own lap. “Why?” It comes out as a croak.

He pulls back, his gaze serious, almost somber. “I did it because I love you.”

I shake my head vehemently, tears stinging my eyes. “No. No, this isn’t love. You—you killed those people for no reason.”

He palms my face and slams my head back against the headboard. “I had every right! Every right, Coraline!”

“You’re sick, Grant,” I spit out through gritted teeth. “This obsession with me isn’t love, it’s dangerous delusion.”

“I was proving to you how much I love you, and you weren’t paying attention,” he snarls.

His fingertips press into my skin so hard, I’m positive I’m going to have ten little bruises tomorrow. If I make it until tomorrow.

Fuck, that’s a sobering thought.

My heart races as I stare into Grant’s cold, dark eyes. I have to fight back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

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