Page 50 of Brutal Empire

The sound of Bas calling for me made me jump and almost lose my balance. My back hit the door, making it thud.

“C-c-coming,” I yelled back as I quickly put on my clothing.

I ran out of the bathroom without a second glance. Maybe I was a coward for refusing to see what stared back at me in the mirror. By the time I reached Bastian, I was trying to catch my breath in more ways than one.

He sat on the couch, looking more put together than I had ever seen him. I had gotten used to seeing him in gear much like my own, but not in a suit. I didn’t know much about them, but it looked expensive—he looked expensive and way beyond my reach. I stilled at that last thought.

Those dark eyes were on me instantly. They went to my wet hair, and he cocked his head. The feeling I felt earlier in the bathroom, the one that scared me, was back when his gaze began to descend over my body.

“Stop looking at me,” I gritted out, and he raised a brow.

Amusement shone in his eyes, and I knew he was trying not to laugh. Instead of saying more, I took the seat opposite him.

“Should I close my eyes as I speak to you?” he teased, and I glared.

“Get on with it…”

He pulled open the jacket and procured a box and a lighter. From inside it, he took out some cigarettes. He brought it to his mouth and pulled one out by holding it between his lips as he pulled away.

Something about that made my insides tingle. Still, I couldn’t look away as he lit it up.

I scrunched my nose in disgust.

He instantly stopped before he lit the cigarette and scrunched his eyebrows.

“Does the smoke bother you?” he asked thickly.

My headshake was instant.

It was neither here nor there for me.

“My mast—”

“Xander Yates,” Bas cut me off. “Say his name. He’s not your fucking master anymore.”

I flinched at his harsh tone.

Bastian took a drag of his cigarette as he stared intently at me.

“Xander,” I went on more softly than I would have liked. “He wasn’t big on smoking. Alcohol and cocaine were more to his liking. Or if he did smoke, he didn’t do it with me.”

One second, Bastian was still sitting, and the next, he was now crouching in front of me. My heart went back to pounding as furiously as it had in the bathroom. I must be coming down with something. It was the only explanation why my body, the well-oiled machine it had been, was beginning to fail me.

It took everything in me to stay still.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Bas told me with such sincerity that it made the walls I had built begin to crack. He had the cigarette in his mouth as he took hold of both of my hands and brought them up to his face, and then he froze.

His nostrils flared. With one hand, he held on to both of my hands while he put out the cigarette on top of the table, not caring that it was not the place to ash it.

“Are you o—”

He didn’t let me finish my question because he then tookthathand and brought it to the top of his lips.

My face felt like it was on fire. He opened his mouth and was about to stick that one finger between his lips when I kicked him.

His grunt almost made me feel bad, but he instantly was up, and so was I. He just looked at me, those eyes darker than I had ever seen them. I didn’t let him get the upper hand or get a word. Instead, I treated him like he was my enemy.

The moment I kicked again, he used his forearm to deflect my hit. I turned and tried to kick him from a different angle, but he grabbed my ankle.

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