Page 12 of Unconditional

I didn’t have duct tape, but I had the forethought to bring handcuffs.This clearly appalled Misely, who pressed a hand to her chest and crumpled her face up in utter disgust.“Absolutely not.I don’t even want to know why you have those, who’ve you’ve used them, on orwhy.”

I gave her a suggestive wink that made her gag before I pounced, cuffing her to the headboard before she could pull away.Then I went to the bedside table that sat between the two beds and disconnected the landline phone, setting the now useless device on the single dresser on the other side of the room.“Don’t want you getting any clever ideas,” I said, shooting her another wink before stepping back out into the cold night to gather her stupid night bag.When I returned with the correct bag this time, her face was screwed up with an unimpressed frown.

“Are you going to uncuff me or what?The sooner I get through my routine, the sooner you can get your beauty sleep.You look like you could use it.”She tilted her head with a mocking smile, batting her eyelashes.

I returned her sneer, using my fingers to tilt her face up toward mine.“That’s so thoughtful of you, Blondie.And funny because I could say the same to you.”

Her lip curled but she said nothing else, her eyes resting on the wall behind me as she waited impatiently for me to release her.Unable to help myself, I took my time.I grabbed her wrist, letting my hold linger, sliding a thumb over her pulse point and relishing in the way it sped up at the contact.When the cuffs were off, she ripped out of my hold, stepping around me with her bag in hand before shutting herself in the bathroom with a slam.

seven

Talon

Shewasanightmare.An absolute nightmare of a woman.I was doing a deep dive through the recesses of my mind trying to figure out why she had ever been an object of my fantasies, when all I wanted to do to hernowwas strangle her.

Misely’s skincare routine had taken an hour and a half.The shower ran for twenty minutes, then from the bathroom came the sounds of teeth being brushed, gargling, and the sink running.At some point she opened the door, muttering that she couldn’t see, as steam fell in a heavy cloud into the main room.She turned back on her heel, the mirror squeaking under her palm as she wiped it clear of the fog.

When shefinallycame back out, she was dressed in the tiniest shorts I’d ever seen in my life, the same cropped shirt she’d been wearing earlier in the night, a silk bonnet over her hair and weird pink jelly looking things under her eyes.At my likely very confused expression, she shrugged.“I don’t want eye bags or split ends.Someof us don’t want to look like the Crypt Keeper when we’re in our forties.”

The pointed look she gave me had me crushing my teeth together to keep from retorting.I wanted to shake her.I had routines.My life was orderly; up by ten, Non-Negotiables, work, ‘work,’ then home by eight, bed by ten again.That is until Milo had to go and fuck the order up.Now I was stuck cleaning up his mess, dragging this blondemenaceacross the country, fucking up all the routines.It was damn near two in the morning and I was ready to drop.

Said menace shrugged at my non-response, spinning to put her back to me as she climbed into her bed, pulling a pink silk sleep mask down over her eyes.Aggravated and tired, I stood from where I’d been perched on a very uncomfortable reclining chair in the corner.I glared down at Misely where she lay, acting for all the world like an unbothered, pampered little brat.With great pleasure I snatched up her wrist again, locking it again onto the headboard.

She gasped, sitting up and shoving the mask over her eyes again.“Are youserious?!”She shook her wrist, the metal of the cuffs clanging against the furniture.“How the hell do you expect me to sleep like this?!”

It was my turn to shrug, giving her an indulgent smile.“Not sure.You’ll figure it out.”

Crawling into bed still dressed in my clothes from that day, my stiff muscles sighed in relief that I was finally laying down to rest.It had been a long fucking day, and to say I was ready for bed was an understatement.

Her angry whisper tore across the silence of the room, echoing into the caverns of my chest.“I hate you.”

You and me both, Blondie.

It was noon the following day when I snapped my book shut signaling the completion of my morning routine, when Misely finally deigned to open her eyes.I wanted to be furious that we hadn’t been back on the road hours before, but it was just as much my own fault.I’d been too tired to set an alarm and the hours spent behind the wheel had taken it out of me.

I hadn’t woken until ten thirty and thought it would be better to leave her sleeping while I completed my Non-Negotiables.Didn’t want her trying to hatch an escape plan and cause a scene while I was out on my run.My mind felt clearer than the day before, more confident in my mission now that I had a better idea of how to handle the Blonde Terror in the bed across the room.

She was sassy, probably one of the sassiest women I’d ever met and that really wasn’t a word I used often to describe someone.She was also very confident and well spoken, which meant that intimidation would only go so far.Anything I threw at her would be analyzed and thrown right back in my face, which was fine.It would keep things interesting when we were confined to a small vehicle for long stretches at a time.

And if there weren’t any complications, we’d be in Astoria within the next four days.Instead of sitting idle, I’d used Misely’s egregious amount of time in the bathroom the night before to map out the rest of our journey.I’d accounted for any fuel or rest stops we may need to make.According to the GPS, which automatically factored in tolls and roadwork, it was roughly a thirty-two hour drive from Chicago to Astoria.We’d already knocked out four hours, and I’d been smart enough to fill the gas tank the night before so there would be no reason to stop for a good while.

I was checking things off my mental list, tucking my current read away in my duffel bag when Misely sighed emphatically.I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise and chose to ignore her, instead zipping up the bag with gusto.

“You have approximately fifteen seconds to get these cuffs off of me before I piss all over this incredibly poor excuse for a mattress.”

Continuing to ignore her, I sipped my coffee and triple checked that I hadn’t left any of my belongings on my own bed.It would be really irritating if we got halfway through this trip and I realized I had left my last pair of clean socks in some shitty hotel.As predicted, the nightmare woman grew more agitated.

“Hello?!”

I said nothing.

“Are you really going to just ignore me?”she demanded, her tone etched in annoyance.

Throwing my duffel up over my shoulder, I left her to sit fuming.I sat in the car for several minutes, asking myself why I’d decided on antagonizing her.I was pissed, sure.My entire life had been thrown off its axis and I was stuck, as per usual, cleaning up the mess.It wasn’t the girl’s fault, but she was here and an easy target for the anger.

My phone rang in my pocket, serving as an ironic reminder of all the reasons I was in this shit position to begin with.

“Yeah?”I answered, not bothering to look at the screen.

---