Page 94 of Never Die for a Sinner
“I-I-I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
I rush toward the bathroom, but it’s useless when he catches me around the waist, hauling me back and pinning me between the wall and him.
His breathing is heavy, and his eyes are on fire when he fists a hand in my hair and drags my face up. His other hand hits the wall beside my head, and I jump, cowering instinctively.
I don’t mean to flinch. I really don’t. But it’s not a voluntary response.
He’s quiet for a moment, and my breathing comes out shaky. Tremors slide through me, and I know he can feel them.
His hold in my hair loosens, and his hand slides down to grip my jaw.
“Open your eyes, Ava.”
I force myself to meet his gaze, and it’s like looking into a black hole, devoid of emotion.
He searches my face for a moment, like he’s reading a book and it’s the worst one he’s ever had the displeasure of picking up.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Ava.”
I don’t have a response for that, so I don’t say anything.
He waits for me to speak up, but I can’t.
After a moment, Levi slides his free hand into his pocket and pulls something out, depositing it in my fingers. I don’t look down, but I know it’s paper and part of me wonders if it’s our contract with a bigVOIDright through the center.
He leans forward, his lips only inches from my ear, and a shiver slides through me. His breath fans across my neck, drawing out tingles on my skin that feel like electric zaps.
What am I doing? I threw a pillow at the man.
I’m really in over my head with this man.
“If you had asked, you would have found it’s already been taken care of,” he says so quietly, I barely hear him.
His lips touch my neck ever so softly in the lightest of kisses . . .
Then he steps back and leaves me pressed against the wall, staring at the spot he just vacated.
It’s not until I hear his footsteps retreat down the stairs that I unfold my fingers and look at what he’d placed in my hand. My heart drops, my mouth running dry at the check he’d given me.
And the hundred thousand dollars it’s made out for.
“Oh, fuck.”
I was wrong.
Hell really does exist. Right here at Cross Estate.
“You’re weak.”
“Oh, fuck you,” I huff in between heavy breaths, my hands on my knees and my back hunched. My heart races in my chest, andI feel like I just tackled a grizzly bear and barely lived to tell the tale.
“You haven’t been eating enough,” he mutters like a disappointed father.
Speaking of, how long is this torture going to last? We’ve been down here for hours, and my stomach is starting to digest itself.
“Nothing gets by you, does it?” I grumble.
