Page 24 of Catching His Runaway

After everything I put myself through back then, I don’t want to. I want to keep her close and never risk another man getting his hands on her.

IfIget my hands on her, will I be able to stop myself from losing control? That kiss against the fence tested my strength, and I barely had enough to pull away. If something like that happens again, I won’t be satisfied with just a kiss. I’ll want more.

I have no doubt about it. Valeria intends to ruin me, whether she’s aware of her actions or not.

* * *

My eyes linger on that door until they burn from forgetting to blink. The hiss of the shower is loud enough to make the wall separating us nonexistent.

She insists on showering every day because the scent of my room clings to her. I can’t smell anything, but she always wrinkles her nose when she nears my closet.

Tearing my eyes away to focus on something that isn’t the whispered lure to cave to the very same voice that pushed me to kiss her, I move to my closet and open the door. Breathing in, I expect to smell something absolutely foul.

Nothing inside stands out. Just my clothing is inside, alongside my boots against the flooring. Lifting them up, I see the crusted red marks beneath. Sniffing again, I realize I hardly even smell the blood.

Valeria’s not used to it. She doesn’t deal with dead bodies often. The one time she has fucked her up plenty.

I still remember the way she stiffened up when she first looked inside. All around her are reminders of what happened to her.

A week ago, I would have been thrilled. Since I couldn’t take her down below, my room could be her own form of torture. Now, things are far more complicated.

Deep inside, I’m not sure what I want is to make her suffer. I need something else, I just haven’t figured it out yet.

Taking the boots to the door, I set them down in the hallway. They’re the primary source of the scent as of right now, forcing the rest of the fabrics to soak up the scent. After a while, the smell should get better.

Just when I think I’m already doing too much, I glance at her clothing. She’s slept on her clothes, curled up against them like it’s better than the floor itself.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I sigh heavily and move to my dresser to make room. Then I make my life harder by taking care of her clothes.

Once I’ve finished, I curse myself for doing it in the first place. And like I haven’t learned my lesson, I pinch my shirt and sniff it.

The scent of blood clings to my skin like a cologne. Even if I showered twice a day and scrubbed my skin, would it make a difference?

Humming in the back of my throat, I consider my options. While I think, the door opens and Valeria steps out with steam drifting past her ankles.

She’s wearing a shirt that’s too big, the hem drifting a few inches above her kneecaps. Almost looks like nothing is beneath, but surely, she wouldn’t. If I have to guess, she’s wearing a pair of shorts that are going to test the extent of my imagination.

She frowns at the disappearance of her makeshift bed. Looking around like I would’ve moved the pile to a different corner, she goes as far as checking beneath my bed.

“I cleared a drawer in my dresser,” I explain as my patience runs thin. “Looking at your pile every day is an eyesore.”

Her brows pinch together, and there’s not an ounce of gratitude on her face. Too much confusion. “I don’t want to sleep on the floor. The clothes made it manageable.”

Looking over toward the corner, I remember how many nights she tossed and turned, groaning in pain in her sleep. I can’t say it’s too comfortable down there. Then my eyes move over toward my bed, and I take in the size. There’s enough room for two bodies, maybe even three. Plenty of space.

My hands curl at my sides, and I frown at her. “Keep your hands to yourself, and you can sleep at the foot of the bed.”

Her skin pinkens, and I can’t tell if it’s from my words or the scalding hot shower she’d just taken.

I don’t let myself linger for long enough to find out.

“Where are you going?”

“Taking a shower. Don’t think about leaving.” Especially not while wearing her current sleepwear. I don’t need any of the other males on the estate to take notice of her.

With the itch to kill burning in the back of my mind, I’d hate to see what would happen if I accidentally lost my patience with one of the many here.

This will be the first time I slip under the heat while she’s still awake. The chance of her disobeying is slim, I’m sure of it.

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