Page 183 of Rage

He kisses the top of my head, sending a wave of shock through me as he turns to leave. Involuntarily, I catch the hem of his sweatshirt before he’s out of reach.

“Could you… Would you mind… I…”

I can’t get the words to form before he turns around to remove my hand and gently place it back on the bed. “Tell me you want me to stay, and I will.”

I stare at him dumbfounded. I can’t register his words quickly enough as they play over and over in my head for a solid minute.

He wants to know I need him, that I can’t get through the night without him, even though I have no idea who he is. He needs me to say that even though he pried his way into my life, I trust him enough to know he won’t murder me in my sleep.

“I want you to stay,” I say shakily as I pull the covers under my chin.

He nods his head. “I’ll stay. But Mavis?”

My eyes connect with his, showing that he has my full attention as my body relaxes with the knowledge that he will stay.

“You’re going to burn that misogynistic army of assholes to the fucking ground starting tomorrow. The fire within you is slowly catching flame, Duchess.”

I blink slowly, trying to process his claim.

“Every fire gets hungry, and I’m just here to provide the gasoline for you to feed its rage.”

His words send a wave of shock through my body, and yet, a flash of hurt comes with it when he leaves the room, choosing to go downstairs instead of staying up here with me.

Why does a man I don’t even know make me feel safer than my fiancé of six years?

And why am I allowing a masked man who has invaded my privacy multiple times to stay here? A man who just almostdrownedme.

A man who also gave me an orgasm sent from the gods.

My brain tosses and turns through my questions and morals as I listen to Seth and Summer arguing on the television.

He’s not wrong when it comes to me not knowing who I am. Not only do my fiancé and his family treat me like I’m beneath them, but my entire life my parents have dictated and made alldecisions for me. Where I went to college, the sports I played, and what I wore, was decided by them until they bribed me with a place of my own in the city. A bribe with a stipulation of me coming home and switching colleges to get away from the boy they didn’t want me to date at the time. Being able to move away from them was a little slice of joy in a world that was slowly burning around me.

I slowly drift off to sleep as I accept that I’m letting a complete stranger rearrange the life I worked so hard for in less than twenty-four hours.

A life I’m not even sure is right for me.

A life I know deep in my heart would send me six feet under before I reach middle age.

A life that now, for some reason, feels safer with an unknown man willing to hold me underwater until I see the change I need to make within myself.

Chapter Six

It’s a funny feeling waking up and feeling like a completely different woman. One that doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about her anymore. It’s as if overnight I have a new outlook on life and finally feel like I can handle whatever is thrown at me. I no longer have the weight of worrying about impressing or appeasing anyone other than myself.

Thankfully, it’s the weekend and I get to be lazy at home until my personal training session this afternoon. Janna and I have been taking boxing lessons for the past six months, and our trainer doesn’t let us take any weekends off. He’s adamant that we stick to consistency, and even though Matthew, our coach, is a softy at heart, his trainer voice terrifies me enough to not cancel a session.

The scent of coffee pulls me in, and I throw on a nightgown with my favorite robe, making my way downstairs for some much needed food after last night’s debacle. Turning the corner, I stop cold in my tracks.

A lone chair is propped up in the hallway with a person tied to it, a black bag over their head. I begin to back up when I’m met with a hard chest to my back. I spin around to face him, searching the mask until I find the emeralds that hold zeroemotion. “Coffee?” he asks, while holding out one of my favorite mugs. My brain is begging me to take it as the heavenly scent floats through the air, but my mouth is too dry to form words. Z shrugs his shoulders and places the mug on the table against the wall. “Take the bag off,” he says, with a nod in the direction of the chair. I open my mouth to protest, but his eyes flare, causing me to snap it shut.

Slowly, I pad over to the chair and remove the bag in one swift motion, letting out a gasp as I bring my hands up to cover my mouth, stumbling backwards.

“Brian?” I whisper as I survey Ross' best friend, a gag in his mouth, bucking violently to be set free. I glance at my stalker and back to Brian before walking back to him and removing the gag.

“You stupid fucking bitch. I can’t wait to tell Ross the shit you’ve caused,” he begins spewing as my stalker marches over and backhands him, snapping his head to the side. I gasp, backing up again until I feel the wall on my backside.

I watch as the man I don’t even know crouches down in front of Brian. “Apologize to her, or I’ll send your balls to your mother in a snow globe for the holidays.”

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