Page 38 of My Masked Stalker
I frown at his contradicting behavior. Wasn’t he just advocating counseling for abused women? Now he’s acting like a typical macho man.
Maybe Killian senses something off in his words as well, because he scoffs and shakes his head.
“Thanks, D,” he murmurs as the EMT passes him. “Don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” he adds, making me laugh despite still feeling on edge.
Killian pushes off the doorframe and approaches the bed, observing me carefully.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, making my eyes bug out.
“Since when do you ask for permission?” I ask on a huff.
He nods at the bruises on my wrists and thighs, his eyes growing molten with anger.
“Since that dead motherfucker took the choice away from you.”
I sigh and drop back onto the bed, then pat the mattress beside me. It dips with Killian’s weight, but he doesn’t reach for me. I miss his possessive touch, his ownership over my body, as much as the notion scares me right now.
“He didn’t rape me,” I say out loud, something I couldn’t say to Damien. It feels both like relief and like admitting I was one hair’s breadth away.
Killian grunts, but doesn’t say anything, allowing me to continue.
“I just keep replaying those men bursting in here, grabbing me, drugging me. Then, when I woke up andhewas there, touching me, threatening me.” I take another steadying breath before continuing. “He said he’d kill you and take me, see what made you chase me.”
He growls now, and I can see from the corner of my eyes that he reaches out for me before changing his mind and letting his hand drop back down.
“I just felt like I had no control over anything. Like I’m powerless, a doll,” I finish, turning my head to finally look at him. Sooty eyelashes draw shadows as he looks down, lost in thought. When his eyes return to mine, they’re burning with determination.
“Then let’s get your power back.”
He jumps out of bed and leaves the room. Where the hell did he go? Is he going to kill more people? He already shot both of my kidnappers and stabbed the one who touched me. Maybe he wants to find the man who spoke from the shadows? I told Killian and his brothers all about what happened, and they kept looking at each other with scowls.
My mouth falls open when he returns holding large black zip ties.
“W—what’s that for?” I ask, unable to take my eyes away from the thin strands of plastic. I know just how impossible it is to get out of them, to break them.
Instead of answering, Killian throws the zip ties onto the bed, then takes his T-shirt and sweatpants off with three efficient moves. He went commando underneath, his dick soft, but stillimpressive against his muscled thighs. I can’t take my eyes off it as he picks up the zip ties and approaches me, handing them off before turning. His hands cross at the small of his back.
“Zip me up, baby.”
“Why?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“It’s time for you to take control,” he answers simply.
My fingers tremble as I stare at the thick black ties in my hands. They feel heavier than they should, like they’re holding every ounce of fear I’ve carried since last night.
“You want me to…” My voice falters. “Restrain you?”
Killian doesn’t move. His wide back is rigid, muscles flexing beneath his tan skin as though it’s taking everything in him not to turn around. “I want you to see how powerful you really are, Emily. You want me helpless? You want me begging? Do it.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight. He’s insane. This whole thing is insane. But my pulse is racing with something that’s not just fear. Power hums under my skin, addictive and unfamiliar.
Slowly, I rise to my knees on the bed and loop one tie around his wrists, pulling it snug. The sharp zip sound echoes like a gunshot in the quiet room. Killian exhales, low and deliberate, but he doesn’t resist.
Another tie, this one cinched tighter. His veins stand out against the strain, but he only murmurs, “Harder, sweetheart. Don’t go easy on me.”
I yank it until my palms burn, and only then do I realize my breathing has evened out, no longer frantic. He’s letting me cage him. He’s giving me what was stolen.
Killian glances back over his shoulder, eyes molten blue, lips curved in the faintest smile. “There she is. My little Red, in control.”
