Page 13 of Devious Secrets

“This thing is useless.” He bends the tip of it with his thumb, then lets go. It probably is. I’ve never actually tried to use it before, and I got it from the secondhand store because it looked scary.

“What do you want?” I ask, moving back a step.

“You took something that belongs to me.” He slides over with me, staying right in front of me, giving me no room to run. “I want it back.”

Of course, he’d want it back, but I can’t give it to him. No matter what he threatens, it has to stay with me. I can’t keep Mira safe if he takes it.

“I did not. You took the box back.” I swallow around my lie as I tilt my head back to look into his dark eyes. His brow wrinkles with more annoyance.

“More lies.” His voice dips.

“I… what do you think I took? If you describe it, maybe I can tell you if I saw it.” I reach back like I’m going to lean against the dresser.

There’s almost always something littering the top of my dresser, a plate from a late-night snack, an old coffee mug, anything that might give a little weight that I can hit him over the head with.

He leans into me, bracing himself on the edge of the dresser at the same time as covering my hands with his.

“I’m not playing games with you. I’ve wasted enough time on you tonight. Give me back what you took and maybe you’ll have a chance at sitting sometime next week.” The threat, which definitely sounds closer to a vow, washes over me.

Between the growly way he says it, the smell of his aftershave, and the sexy way his eyes wrinkle as they bore into me, my insides catch fire.

Not the response he was looking for, I’m sure.

“I… I can’t,” I manage to get out, while trying to worm my hands out from beneath his. “Really. I can’t.”

“Why is that?” He lowers his face closer to mine. “Why can’t you give me what you stole? You haven’t given it to anyone yet. You haven’t left your apartment since you arrived home. And no one has been here to see you, so what excuse do you have?”

My throat dries.

Telling him won’t matter. He doesn’t exactly give off the hero vibe. There’s little chance that he’d climb a white horse and go off into battle with Marco DeAngelo to get me out of my mess.

“Please.”

His eyebrow arches.

“You really want to do this the hard way again, Megan?”

“No.” I shake my head, remembering how hard his hand was earlier. “I don’t want to do this any way.”

The left side of his mouth kicks up just a little, but it falls right back down again.

“I’m sure you don’t.” He stands up, letting my hands free. “But what you want isn’t my concern. You can either give it to me, or I’ll just have to find it myself.”

He looks around the room, where my unwashed laundry is piled up in front of the closet, and my washed, but unfolded laundry overflows my only laundry basket next to the mountain.

He yanks open the top dresser drawer, hitting my hip with the corner as he does so. I stare, dumbstruck, as he rifles through my panties and my socks.

“Hmm.” He lifts a pair of black lace panties I’d bought while dating Jerad, my ex-boyfriend, in hopes of getting his attention away from the video games he loved so much.

I snatch them from his fingers.

“I want you to leave.” There.

He huffs a laugh and shuts the dresser.

“I already told you what I thought about what you want.” He moves through my room, his booted feet making no sound against the ugly blue carpeting.

He yanks open the nightstand drawer where my knife came from.

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