Page 32 of Eye Candy

“You—”She pointed at me. “—you have some nerve, saying all that. Don’t bother with the sketches. I don’t want your services.”

I cocked a single brow at her, letting her storm around me, toward the exit. I waited a few more seconds before saying, “I’ll see you next week, then.” My smirk morphed into a full-out grin when I turned around and found her staring at me, her mouth hanging open. “Maybe, if you ask me nicely, I’ll show you what I can do with these.” I ran my tongue along them, aching to put them to use now. “Only if you’re my princess, though.”

She barked out a laugh that sounded fake, through and through. “Good luck with that.” Laina said nothing else, reaching the door and yanking it open. She stepped out in the bright light of day, where Big Mike and her step-uncle, Kieran, were waiting for her.

Before the door swung shut on its own, Laina tossed a look at me over her shoulder. We locked eyes and then, just like that, the door closed.

I thought of Laina a lot as the day wore on, and I knew I’d think of her even more in the coming days. Something about her called out to me, made me want to lose it in the best way. Like the animal inside had taken one look at her and made the split-second decision:mine.

She was young for me, of course, but I’d seen a lot of women come and go, and none had ever interested me long-term. I much preferred being alone with my work. But for Laina… maybe my darkness could help her come to terms with hers.

Because it was there, make no mistake. Underneath that adorably cute exterior sat a darkness waiting to come out andplay. Maybe being kidnapped had formed it and helped it grow, or maybe it’d been there from the beginning. Either way, I knew it in my soul.

My princess was hiding something.

Chapter Eleven – Laina

I’d been here for a while, it seemed. Watching TV could only entertain me for so long. I’d tried, practically begged my Devil to stay with me every now and then, to talk to me… to show me his face.

But he never did.

One day, after dinner, while I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing things were different—but not in the way most girls would wish if they were in my position—that the door opened once again. I hurried to sit up, stunned to see my devil in black walking in, a tray in his gloved hands.

He never came back after dinner. It was always the next morning, when he brought me breakfast, so this was a welcome surprise.

I watched, holding my breath, as my Devil walked closer to me. I hadn’t tried to attack him since that first time, partially because I’d never be able to take him on physically, but mostly because I didn’t want to.

He didn’t hurt me. Didn’t try to rape me. It was almost like he thought he was protecting me from something out there—from my dad, maybe? Either way, his actions endeared himself to me in ways they shouldn’t.

I shouldn’t, for instance, have every detail of his devil mask memorized, nor should I know the way his body moved. The broadness of his shoulders, the flatness of his stomach; I couldn’t see any skin on him, but there was no way he was old under there. He moved like a man in the prime of his life.

I swung my legs off the side of the bed, the chain on my ankle now something I hardly noticed, being so used to it after all this time. “What’s this?” I asked, already knowing I wouldn’t get an answer.

My Devil came and set the tray on my bed beside me. In the center of it sat a shiny metal dome covering whatever rested underneath it. I had no idea what those things were called. My face must’ve been confused, because he divided his time between staring at me behind that mask and at the small dome.

The TV was on in the background, playing some show that came on every Wednesday night at eight. Really, TV was the only way I was able to keep a sense of time in here.

When I made no moves to go for it, my Devil plucked the silver dome off the tray, revealing my surprise.

A piece of birthday cake.

“What…” And then it hit me, what today must’ve been. “Today’s my birthday?” My breath came out short; that meant I was eighteen, legally an adult. I wondered if that meant he’d let me go.

After seeing my dad get everything he’d been working towards these last few years… I wasn’t sure I wanted to be free. What kind of life would be waiting for me out there? Not one I was used to.

My Devil nodded once.

“Thank you,” I whispered, giving him a smile. I started to reach for it, but right before my hand touched the plate on the tray, I pulled away from it, fighting with all of the emotions waging war inside me. “Did you know last year my dad forgot my birthday? He was too busy campaigning. He’s never been good with dates, but he’d never completely forgotten before. Sometimes I feel like you care more about me than he does.”

His head slowly tilted, and he went to stand before me as he listened. He stood directly before my knees, inches away, the closest he’d ever gotten to me. My Devil stunned me by lifting a hand and bringing it to my face.

Down the side of my left cheek, the touch of his gloved hand on me shouldn’t have made me catch my breath, but it did. His hand swept down along my jawline, catching my chin between his thumb and his finger, and he angled my head back so that I gazed up at him.

It was the first time he’d ever touched me—well, since kidnapping me, I mean. He had to touch me a whole lot that day.

He was the opposite of forceful. The way he touched me, how gentle his thumb and finger cradled my chin… he was everything he shouldn’t be, given the fact he’d kidnapped me, and it made me want him in ways I shouldn’t.

“Why?” I breathed out the word. “Why am I here? Why are you keeping me here?” I’d lost track of how many times I’d asked him those questions. “Why won’t you show me your face?” Was the end goal to let me go? So if he never showed me his face, I wouldn’t have anything to tell the police?

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