Page 29 of No Promises, No Lies

“Fine. She stays here for now, until we know what it is we’re dealing with. But if she endangers Reagan,” Koen’s eyes flare at me, “I’ll kill her myself.”

I look my brother in the eye. “You’ll have to beat me to it.”

18

SHARP EDGES

RORY

Itear through the bag. In it I find gloves, a helmet, skates, some gym clothes, and a couple of stinky practice jerseys.Hockey players are disgusting.The smell emanating from the gloves is a putrid one. I plug my nose with one hand as I dig deeper into the bag.

The sound of a key jiggling in the door sends a lightning bolt of panic through me. I only have enough time to grab the one thing I think I might be able to use before racing out of the closet, hastily closing the door behind me.

I grip the hockey skate I stole tightly in my hand, hiding it behind my back.Shit, I’m not ready. My mind races to formulate a plan, and I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Aidan's eyes sharpen with suspicion the second he sees me. They flick around the room in a brief, deliberate sweep before locking back onto mine, unyielding and intense. I will my pounding heart to calm.

“Whatever it is you have, it’s best you give it over, Angel.” The Irish accent I detected earlier comes out a little stronger with his words. He holds out a hand as if I’d actually comply with that bullshit.

I take a step back, shaking my head. My eyes dart between him and the bed between us.

“You can’t keep me here against my will.”

Aidan’s mouth curls up into a devilish smile as he slowly stalks closer, reminding me of a big cat who has its eyes set on its next meal.

“I hate to break it to you, Love, but I can do just about anything I want with you.” He winks, amused.

I tighten my grip around the skate at my back. Biding my time until he’s close enough.

“No one knows where you are, andno oneis coming to rescue you. You’re allmine.” He edges closer and I take another two steps back. Not unaware that he’s herding me into the corner. I force my eyes to stay on him, ignoring the door he’s left open at his back.I only have one shot.

“You don’t eat unless I allow it. You drink what I give you.” His lips quirk and I swear vomit climbs up my throat at the innuendo. He stops his advance, pinning me in place with his stare alone. “And you answer whatever questions I ask you—honestly.” He adds, “No lies,” slowly shaking his head.

I scoff and cock my head to the side as I look him over, arching a brow. Hoping to appear unimpressed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not one of your little soldiers. Taking orders is not something I do. In fact, I barely take suggestions.”

Forest green eyes darken with violent excitement and I gulp, losing some of my bravado, backing up until I hit the wall behind me. Nowhere left to go.

“It sounds like someone needs to learn their place.” He comes for me. Ihold back, waiting until he’s within striking distance before I lash out with the skate. My fingers are tight around the boot, blade side out. Slashing at him with all of my strength. He notices the blade in my hands a second too late.

I make contact. There’s a bright flash of red.

Aidan brings his arm up just in time to save his throat. His eyes flash with surprise when I cut him, slicing down his arm, blood pouring out, streaming in crimson rivulets down his wrist, and dripping down to the floor.

I falter at the sight of the damage I’ve inflicted. Before I can form another thought, he moves. Snatching the skate right out of my hand and slamming my back against the brick wall behind me. Curling one hand around my throat—pinning me there.

Fear coats my tongue like ash, and I meet his gaze with wide, unblinking eyes.

He tosses the skate behind him, cursing. When his bloody hand comes back in my direction, raised, I flinch, turning my cheek and closing my eyes.

Bracing for the hit.

My mind decides this is the best time to remind me of all those media articles I’d pulled up after running into him the other day at the rink, detailing the hot-head that is Aidan O’Rourke. Hit first, ask questions later. Violent, brutal and relentless. He nearly killed a guy last year on the ice.With a single punch.

When the strike doesn’t come, I slowly open my eyes, finding Aidan staring at me stone-faced. Still as a statue with a barely contained rage burning in his eyes.

He takes in his bleeding arm. Twisting it so he can view the extent of the damage. I’m no medical professional, but even I know it’s going to need stitches. “FUCK!”He shouts, his voice echoing against the loft’s high ceilings.

I flinch again.

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