Page 36 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

“I was going to wait until tonight, give you a little time to recover from the past few days, but if you’re well enough to throw sass, then you’re well enough to chat,” he says. I open my mouth to disagree. It snaps shut when he keeps talking.

“I killed a man. It’s my job, and I enjoy it. It’s a pleasure for me to kill the type of men that I do. I’d do it for free, I like it so much.”

Can’t say I disagree with his sentiment, having seen Fern’s file full of nightmares. My skin crawls just remembering the after picture of that girl.

“But I made a mistake,” he continues. “I shouldn’t have taken you on that job with me. Or, at the very least, I should have given you more information beforehand. I have no excuse. My only explanation is that I can’t think straight with you around.” He shakes his head, then squeezes me. “I promise that it will never happen again. There will never be another Take Millie to Work Day. You can stay here where it’s safe when I work. I swear you won’t ever have to see anything like that again.”

I put my hand on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat beating a million miles an hour. Mine speeds up to match it.

“I’m glad there’s someone like you taking care of those guys,” I tell him honestly. “I didn’t like seeing it, and I never want to see anything like that again, but I’m not the least bit upset that guy is dead.”

Stryker hugs me to him, and his whole body relaxes.

“We’re good then?” he asks. I shake my head.

“Stryker, you kidnapped me. You’re holding me here against my will. I don’t know when you took the cuffs off, but I don’t believe for a second that their absence means my freedom. You’re still dragging me around, pinning me, manhandling me. You say I’m not your slave, but you treat me like an object you own. I don’t see how we can ever be ’good’ under these conditions.”

I pull back my head back to gauge his reaction to my words, expecting annoyance – anger, maybe. Instead he looks… determined. My brows pull together.

“I’llmakeus good,” he says. I roll my eyes. What a man answer.

“Are you going to let me go?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then that’s going to be impossible.”

He shakes his head and uses one huge hand to push myhead against his chest. He hugs me.

“You’ll see,” he murmurs. “We’re going to be more than good.”

Oh, brother.

Before I can respond to that bit of delusion, he stands, lifting me with him. He takes us back to the counter where he sets me down in order to right our fallen stools.

“Finish your food,” he bosses. Um…

“I think we should probably finish our conversation,” I suggest. Not that I wanted to have it in the first place, but since we already started, I’d like to aim for a more Millie-favored end to it.

“Said all there is to say already. Now you need to focus on your food. You didn’t eat anything for two days. Your body needs sustenance.”

“I think there’s more to say,” I tell him. “Particularly on the topic of you letting me go.”

He disagrees.

“Eat, Millie.”

I open my mouth intending to argue further, but Stryker shoves a piece of broccoli in it. I frown around the bite.

Fine. If he’s going to be stubborn about it, I’ll eat. We can discuss my freedom later, when he’s feeling less bullheaded.

Or I can just take matters into my own hands, I think, eying my uncuffed wrist.

I’m not a slave, he says, so why act like one.

Chapter Thirteen

By the time we’re done eating, I’m completely drained. Between the days-long breakdown, the tea and enlightenment at Rosie’s, and arguing with Stryker, every ounce of energy has been sapped out of me.

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