Leave their body, check.
Send proof, check.
Take care of a person? I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.I can barely take care of myself.
“Are we going to stand here all night?” she asks, her eyes bouncing between me and the hotel.
“Uh, yeah. Right.” Shifting on my feet, I climb the stairs off to the side of the building, scanning the keycard and unlocking the door.
It wasn’t much—a large plain room with a bathroom off to the side. My duffle bag is placed on the table, while the bag of weapons sits under the bed.
“Soooo.” Once again breaking into my thoughts, I turn to find her already watching me again. “You mind if I shower, or is that against the rules?”
“Rules?” I furrow my brows, though she can’t see them. I’ve gotten so used to wearing a mask, I barely even notice anymore.
“Yeah, you’re my new kidnapper. Not that I’m complaining; you’re a lot nicer than Devil ever was. So, I’m asking, can I shower, or do you prefer the grime and filth?”Motioning down towards herself.
It makes logical sense; kidnappers don’t care if you’re filthy. They don’t care if you shower, they only care about whatever they plan on doing to you. Devil aka Zander, was known to torture and play games and it is not all that surprising, knowing him from before.He was never right in the head, even as a teenager. None of us were.
But if she thought I was kidnapping her, why does she talk so fucking much?
“Do you always stare at people like they're dumb?”
Cocking my head to the side, I blurt out, “Do you always talk so much?”
Of course, she rewards me with a smile, and of course I can’t help myself but continue to stare at her. Only I try to fix my face and not look at her like she’s dumb. Though, on the contrary, because who lets a stranger get them out of a cage in a psycho’s house, to leaving with that stranger, without at least asking questions.
“Are you going to let me shower or not?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
Without saying anything, I turn and head further into the room. I don’t bother making sure she’s following me; I can feel her behind me. Leading her into the bathroom, I flick the light on.
“Uh, there’s soap and shit in the shower, towels are over here.” Motioning around the room, I don’t bother looking at her. “Let me grab you some clothes.”
“Can we get this collar off me?” She asks, lifting her chin up as if I can’t see the chunk of metal around her neck.
Not saying anything, I all but run to my duffle bag, grabbing some sweatpants, a t-shirt and one of the paperclips from the folder of contracts. Turning on my heel, I stop in front of her thrusting the clothes into her arms. She rolls her head to the side giving me access to the lock. Thankfully picking this lock takes less than a minute before it’s dropping to the ground. Bending down, I snatch it up before I’m grabbing the door handle and slamming it shut. I faintly hear the water start up before I’m turning on the spot, my eyes dancing around the room.
What the actual fuck am I supposed to do?
Saving the girl did not entail bringing her back to my hotel room. And I’m at a complete loss about what to do. I mean, I could have taken her to the hospital, dropped her off at the police station—fuck, even taken her to Killian. It’s his problem, not mine. But the moment she wrapped herself around me, my heart sped up, my skin was crawling, and I never wanted her to let go.
There’s something seriously wrong with me.
She talks too much, and I’ve only known her for a few hours. And the things that come out of her mouth, I don’t understand half of it.
Do I actually look like an ogre?
I’ve been called all the normal things in life, a giant, big guy. Which she’s called me multiple times. I’ve been asked how the weather is up here, every joke you can think about. But a damn ogre, and her mimicking Shrek, “Get out of my swamp.”
She’s crazy.
That’s it. She has to be crazy, or something is obviously wrong with her. Something has to be clearly wrong. But it still begs the question, what did Zander want with her? And what the hell did I want with her?
“Thanks for the shower.” Her voice sounds too close, and when I look up, she’s standing next to me. Either she’s too soft on her feet, or I was too distracted in my head that I hadn’t realized.
And now I’m back to staring at her. Only this time, my lungs fail me. My eyes nearly bug out of my head. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I feel like a damn teenager seeing a female for the first time. My cock immediately aches as I take in her round face that’s covered in freckles. I couldn’t see them before, but now they’re on clear display. Pale, milky skin, covered in so many freckles it’d be impossible to count. Her eyes are a shade of forest green, with flecks of brown. They’re a little cloudy, but it’s probably because she’s tired. Her lips are full and round, her bottom lip slightly bigger than the top. Her hair is naturally red, and long. I can’t tell if it is straight or wavy since it’s wet. But either way, she is beautiful.
My clothes drown her. I don’t know how I didn’t notice how much smaller she is than me. But it isn’t hard with me being six foot seven. I am over a foot taller than her. And outweigh her by more than a hundred pounds.