Page 41 of Heartless

“Does Ibuprofen knock you out for three or so hours?” Cass asks blithely, unbothered by the warning in my tone. “Come on. We both know it wasn’t. You’re fine. You needed sleep.”

I suppose he’s not wrong, and my head definitely doesn’t hurt right now. I feel a little floaty, honestly. Like I’m not quite all the way here. With a groan, I shove his arm off of me, sitting up and pressing a hand over my eyes when my head spins from the quick movement. When it stops, I glance at the bandages on my arms, rubbing the pads of my fingers over them. “I need to go soon,” I say at last.

Cass suspiciously doesn’t reply. Normally, his silence would be expected; he’s not the most talkative person in the world. But this time it seems…different. I turn to look at him over my shoulder, surveying his still-relaxed posture and the way he looks at his phone as he scrolls through notifications. No, it’s too casual. Tooeasy.

Too innocent, even.

“Did you hear me?” The words hang between us, stagnating in the air of his apartment. He doesn’t reply at first, but I see the muscles in his jaw working like he’s pissed for some reason, ortrying to work through his first reaction without saying anything out loud.

A pang of nervousness twists through my stomach. His reaction doesn’t feelright, that’s for sure.

“I heard you,” he murmurs finally, barely glancing up at me. But that’s all he says.

What is wrong with him?

“I really appreciate the kidnapping to get me out of a bad situation, and this.” I gesture at my arms. “It’s umm…” He never makes me this nervous. Not since…well. Not since back then. “But I need to go home and?—”

“Back to your empty house and the cats that have plenty ot food and water for a couple of days?” Carefully, Cass sets his phone on the table beside the sofa and gets to his feet to meander toward the other part of the large, open space. “Back to your sister, who has you babysit on your days off and doesn’t give you a lot of credit or repayment for it?” He flips on a light, illuminating his kitchen and the large granite island that serves as a table and counter. Cassian leans back on his elbows, looking me over with cold blue eyes.

“Or back to your mom, who’s trying to forget you exist?”

That’s what does it. His words, true as they are, shatter my calm and I lunge to my feet, feeling around for my phone in my pockets. “I hate you,” I hiss, heart racing. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but Ihate you.”

“Why?” he asks lazily, watching my frantic self pat down. “For saying what you already know is true?”

“Yeah. That.” Giving up, I look at him with narrowed eyes. “Where’s my phone? I’m calling an Uber, since you’re being so fucking weird about this. And a dick, in case you needed the clarification.”

Cassian doesn’t reply. He tilts his head to the side, still giving me that strange, almost predatory look. “Tell me, Winnie. Whendoes the kidnapper ever let their victim leave just because she asks not-so-nicely?”

His words send a shiver up my spine. I turn to face him fully, surveying his relaxed posture and the neutral, careful look on his face. “This isn’t…” My brows furrow in confusion. “You didn’t kidnap me. That was ajoke. You were helping me after?—”

“Sure, I’m definitely helping you,” Cassian agrees, cutting me off. “But I wasn’t joking about it. Someone is trying to hurt you, and you have a detective who’sreallyinterested in things he shouldn’t be following you around. How long was I supposed to wait, hmm?” He pushes off of the counter and prowls toward me, until he can reach out and wrap his fingers lightly around the base of my throat.

I hold my breath, eyes holding his as I take a deep breath. Then another one. “Where’s my phone, Cass?” I murmur, not pulling away from him, no matter how nervous I am. My nails dig into my palms at my sides as I hold myself still.

“I’ll give it back to you when I feel like it. You should sleep more, you know?” His hand shifts, moving up so he can push my hair behind my ear and cup my jaw. “You look exhausted.”

“I always look exhausted. Don’t change the subject.” Reaching up, I swat his hand away from my face. “I’m not yourvictim.I never was. Don’t make me do something that one of us will probably regret.”

“Like what? Tell me you hate me? Or will you ransack my apartment looking for—” I bolt around him, heading for the kitchen and the block of knives I see by the stove. Cass makes a sound of surprise and whirls, his arm looping around my waist before he jerks me back with a surprised laugh. “Really?” he asks, incredulous. “You’re going tostab me, sweetheart?”

“What, you think I wouldn’t?” I hiss, writhing in his grip. Fuck, he’s stronger than he should be. It’s too easy for him todragme through his living room, and he pushes open one ofthe closed doors behind the sofa before shoving me into what I realize is a bedroom. If I weren’t so anxious and frustrated, I’d take a moment to appreciate the sloped ceiling made of glass that opens to the sky above Akron. I’d also appreciate the dark blue-grays of the comforter, rug and comforter.

Hell, I might even express my surprise at the live plants he has on one wall.

But not when I’m this worked up.

“No,” Cass admits with a laugh, closing the door behind him. “I think you’d do it, but I think you’d regret it…eventually. But you’re more than welcome to try to convince me in here, without knives, to let you go.”

When he tries to move away from the door, I’m quick to tangle my fingers in his t-shirt and shove him right back into it. I feel the way he tenses, then relaxes enough to let me do it. That infuriates me more; knowing he’sgivingme the advantage instead of me earning it.

“Fight back,” I hiss, unsure why I say it.

His eyes narrow slightly, seeming to darken under his lashes as he looks me over. The only light in the room is what’s coming from outside, from the glow of the city lights somewhere below his apartment. “That’s dangerous of you, sweetheart. You don’t want me to?—”

“Don’t tell me what I want.” I jerk him off the wall, only to shove him back into it as my heart races. I don’t know why I do it, and I certainly don’t know why I sneer in his face with my heart racing in my chest. “If you’re just going to let me slam you into your door and stand here like a kicked puppy, you should’ve let me grab a knife?—”

I get my wish, even though it takes me a few moments to register what’s happening. Cassian spins us around easily, reversing our position, and shoves me onto my tiptoes with his hand around my throat. I gasp, hands flying up to his armas panic surges through me, but his knee shoves between my thighs, giving me a way to steady myself so he’s not actually strangling me.

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