Page 42 of Betrayed
“So that was him you saw on that platform.”
“Most likely.”
“But you didn’t take your phone with you.”
“You know because you track me with it, stalker. I had to turn mine off when I left your house.”
A good reason to put a ring on her pretty finger. Bachman wives have Bachman tech phones. There is no way to turn the location off.
“You didn’t take it with you.”
“No, I bought a burner phone.”
I lean back, resting the back of my head on the pillow, my arm bent behind it. I stare up at the ceiling as I think. “How the hell did he get the number for your burner?”
I think of the boot prints.
My god.
Was he not only outside her cabin…
But inside?
Inside the cabin walls while she was sleeping? So close to her?—
My blood boils with rage, my pulse doubles, and I have to get out of bed to pace.
“You’re never walking out of my sight again,” I say.
“That’s not possible.”
“Watch me make it happen.”
Her lips part like she wants to argue, but I cross to where she lies, bend over, slide my hand into her hair, and tilt her head back.
She gasps.
Not in fear.
In surrender.
She’s mine. And I’ll do anything to keep her safe.
I lean down, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “When this is over, I’m chaining you to my bed.”
She whimpers.
And it sounds like a prayer.
And then I kiss her.
Not soft. Not gentle.
The kiss is a claim—teeth, tongue, fury. She gasps against my mouth.
When I pull away, her face is flushed, her eyes shining for more.
I lie down beside her, pulling her back against me. It’s time to circle back to the thing she doesn’t want to say.
