Page 57 of Bound to a Killer
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I wonder briefly if he can hear it through the stretch of silence.
“So much determination,” he utters more quietly this time, mostly to himself. “It’s fascinating, really.” His eyes are piercing, cutting straight into my soul. Not even the sharp end of his blade can match that kind of intensity.
“W-What do you mean?”
He takes another step forward, inching closer.
Suddenly, my tongue grows heavy, along with the rest of me, as memories of touching him resurface. The heat already simmering in my core dips lower. And lower. The thudding intensifies with it, pulsing deep between my thighs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A shameful blush creeps up my cheeks. Why am I reacting like this? What’s wrong with me?
He reaches down to tuck a rogue strand of hair behind my ear once he’s close enough, and my breath catches. His eyes darken to a cold shade of gunmetal. Beautiful. Deadly. Like the rest of him.
My next breath is shallow, unlike the pounding behind my ribs that feels hard enough to fracture a bone. A maliciouscurve tugs at his lips like he knows what’s stirring in my head, relishing the pull he has on me.
“You’re fighting hard to go back to a place that never wanted you,” he says, his hand still holding the hair behind my ear.
My chest constricts and my eyes burn. But I keep my emotions locked up tight, away from his amusement. Those are mine. Nobody can take that away.
“Let it go,” he says flatly, like those words don’t sting. “Stop fighting the inevitable. Those people won’t let you live past an hour if you go back to your old life.”
Swallowing through the tightness in my throat, I keep my head held high, without a flinch. Even as his warm breath spreads over my face.
“You mean your boss?”
I recall Frankie saying something about them…The Raiders? Ranger…? Then it clicks back into memory. The Ringer. That’s it.
He searches my face, his gaze steady and unreadable. Heat crawls up my neck as my stomach coils tight. “Yes,” he answers.
His fingers trail away from my hair to my throat, his thumb pressing against the warm, delicate flesh in a way that sends chills down my spine.
How can a simple glance feel so intimate? Like he’s seeing straight through every defense I’ve built, exposing whatever’s left of me underneath. I’m thankful I’m seated, or else he’d notice the tremble in my limbs. I force my thighs together to hold them still, but it only turns the fluttering into something sharper.
“The past won’t help you now. Holding onto that life is only making this harder.”
Something unwelcome curls low in my stomach. I shake my head, unable to find anything else to say. There’s nothing I can say. His mind is made up.
He really thinks this is the only way forward.
My eyes round as an idea comes to me. “I’ll vouch for you,” I stumble over my words, rushing to get the thought out. He narrows his eyes on me.
“You’ll vouch?” he echoes.
I nod with fervor, a slight dizziness following it. “Those people after you, after us…The Ringer? They aren’t above the law. If you come forward, I’ll back you up, say that without your protection they would’ve harmed me.”
The moment his eyes harden on me, the rest of my rambling dies in my throat. A cold, dark, paralyzing fear takes hold of me.
“Where’d you get that name from?” His tone is clipped. All trace of softness gone.
I flinch when he leans closer to me, his breath adding to the heat already radiating from my cheeks. Despite his hard glare, I don’t give up insisting.
“I know you don’t trust the police. Frankie told me everything, but I promise I’ll?—”
“Not a chance,” he bites out before I can finish. “You think you know everything now? That you get it?”
