Page 56 of Keep Me

“Get in the fucking car, Sylvie,” he shouts in a growly command.

My expression twists in revulsion. “I’m not getting in there with you if you’re going to yell at me like that.”

As he slams the door and marches toward me, my eyes widen even more. “I told you to get in the fucking car, woman. You can either listen to me, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder and put you in there myself.” He crowds me against the building with an enraged snarl on his face. I can’t help but notice the way his hands are shaking and his eyes are erratic.

“What is wrong with you?” I reply defiantly, but my tone doesn’t carry the same livid heat it normally does. I’m too confused and shocked to be as angry as he is.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters as he reaches for me.

Before he can cause a scene and have the police take him to jail, I put up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay!” I shriek. “I’ll get in. Just…relax.”

“Relax?” he howls at me. “You have had us worried sick. Peter came looking for you, but you didn’t answer your phone, and he couldn’t find you.”

“I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

“Just get in the fucking car.”

His chest is heaving in a panicked, shallow sort of way. I quickly move around him and rush to the passenger side, climbing in and forcing myself to relax. I didn’t actually do anything wrong. I was just a little late. My phone died. It’s not my fault for getting everyone worried.

As Killian climbs in next to me, I stare at him behind the wheel of the car. It’s such an odd image for me. I’ve only ever seen him at the house. Something isn’t right about him, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Are you okay?” I mumble delicately as he takes off down the cobblestone road.

His head snaps in my direction. “I’m fine,” he grumbles.

He doesn’t look fine.

But I don’t push the subject. I still can’t get over the fact that Killian is driving a car. He’s not at the house. He…left.

“You’re so…inconsiderate, Sylvie,” he snaps.

I lift my head and give him a terse glare. “Inconsiderate? It was just an accident. I said I was sorry!”

“You had us worried sick.” His hands squeeze around the steering wheel as my temper grows.

“Because I was a little late?”

“Because you don’t think about anyone but yourself. Peter couldn’t find you. And I don’t like seeing my staff upset.”

My gaze intensifies on him. None of this makes any sense.

We stay quiet for the rest of the drive. It feels as if there’s a lump of something in my chest. Emotion I can’t seem to swallow.Pain that won’t go away. Guilt that rots inside me like a cancer.

He’s angry at me because I worried him, and I can’t make sense of it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone’s concern so intensely before. And I don’t know if I like it.

When we reach the manor, I barrel out of the car, desperate to run from this feeling inside me.

He stomps after me, clearly not ready to let me go. I slam the door, but he quickly opens it and bounds inside before slamming it himself.

“Sylvie!” he roars after me. I’m halfway up the stairs when he practically chases me up them. There is a shake in my bones, and I don’t know if it’s adrenaline or fear or anticipation.

We are on the precipice of something big. I can feel it, and it terrifies me. Because it means I have to come out of the quiet, safe little bubble I’ve been living in.

I turn on my heel and shout back at him. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stop being an insolent brat!”

Stepping up another few stairs, he stops two away from me. I’m just barely as tall as him at this level.

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