Page 18 of The Piece You Stole

I was glad I had my back to him when he told me that. If he’d seen the killing fury in my eyes, he’d have laughed and then thought up some way to punish me for it.

He made a few suggestions about what makeup he’d like me to wear. I took one look at the tray of Dior and Chanel makeup that once had me grinning for an entire day that it was allminebefore I picked out a lipstick at random. After I ran a brush through my hair, I applied one slick of burgundy red and told him I was done. If he wanted me to wear more, he could learn to apply makeup.

His lips tightened, but he let it slide. It was only when he smiled that I told myself it might not have been a good idea to antagonize the man—theanimal—that Rylan was giving me to for a week.

It hadn’t taken me long to dress. Ten minutes. It took him even less time to slip into one of the dress shirts, suit jackets, and black pants he keeps here. As if we really were going on a date. Not a normal one because I’m going to be chased through a forest by a pack of wolves in a designer dress. The heels I’ll kick off at some point, leaving me in a thousand-dollar dress and Chanel lipstick. I’d laugh if I didn’t feel so numb.

Can you even call that a date?I asked myself as Nathan guided me from the bedroom to the dining room.

But this ismynormal. And in my world, this is a date.

He led me to the glass dining table, pointing at a seat while he went to answer the firm knock at the door.

Nathan returned with two large, white paper bags, one he delivered directly to Rylan’s office, the other he brought to the dining table. The paper bag was filled with so much deliciousness that it made my stomach rumble happily.

If I had any doubt about the cost, someone had thoughtfully included the four-figure total in an elegant scrawl at the bottom, the price of each item tallied alongside: a bottle of 2018 Chateau Lafite, Kobe steak fillets, truffled mac and cheese, and lemon-parmesan dusted asparagus spears.

All were to be delivered at nine-thirty p.m. Friday night.

Sharp.

Nathan hadn’t been lying. After Rylan had bitten me, I’d slept two days away. A part of me—a small, tiny part—that once dreamt of happy ever afters wanted to cry because it had so desperately wished that the hounds had found a way to save me.

The smell was as achingly familiar as the name stamped on the receipt.

Baldaccio’s.

It was the first place that Rylan took me for dinner. I’d heard about the restaurant from magazines at the grocery store. With my basket of groceries for Dad and me beside my feet, I’d flick through page after page, imagining I was one of the girls living dream lives. I’d feast on the photographs of celebrities covering their faces as their hulking bodyguards rushed them out of the restaurant’s black-tinted front doors and into the limousines parked just outside.

Back then, I hadn’t cared where Rylan took me. He’d saved me from a dad who spent most evenings and weekends lobbing empty bottles at my head because he’d run out of booze, and I refused to give him money for more. Rylan could have taken me to an alley, handed me a slice of discarded pizza, and I’d have thanked him and smiled. And I’d have meant it.

Baldaccio’s wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t even what I wanted. But it was proof—realtangibleproof—that I’d done the right thing in taking his hand and letting him help me up from the floor of the Stationers Diner.

I was wearing a black Alaia dress with a ballerina-style tulle skirt and six-inch Jimmy Choo heels with a crystal strap around my ankles that I didn’t know how to walk in but had all the women drooling onto their plates when they saw them.

And I was with Rylan.

He made me laugh. I made him laugh. There were candles on the table, mellow jazz so romantic I felt the music seeping into my pores. They canceled an A-list Hollywood actress’ booking because Rylan wanted the table even longer.His beautiful date was having such a good time that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her smiles,Rylan said, looking right into my eye as he said it.

It was perfect.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

“I’m not hungry,” I say, looking away from the steak Nathan cut into nice little pieces with his knife before handing me a plastic fork to eat with.

The padded leather chair is comfortable beneath me, but the chair isn’t the reason for the restlessness invading my body, making my skin itchy. I’ve never felt as trapped in this life as I do now.

Nathan raises his glass of merlot to his lips and takes a small sip. That’s all he’ll let himself have. Alcohol won’t have much of an effect on shifters, but Nathan likes to remain in full control of his senses. “Well, you’ll need your strength later.” A smile warms his cold eyes. “I imagine those bruised ribs will make you a little slower than usual.”

Alarm spikes through me at how he could know. But then I remember that I’ve been passed out naked on Rylan’s floor for two days.

He had to have seen the fading black and brown bruises then. Nothing to freak out about, Saige.

My ribs still throb when I turn too quickly, but it’s easy to ignore it. If it hurts too much, all I have to do is think of what Nathan could have done to Dad, and suddenly the pain is more manageable than it was before.

But for now, I think of the playground and what will happen tonight.

Rylan will give me a five-minute head-start to reach a specific park bench, and then he will set the rest of the pack after me. I have never attempted to reach the park bench because the moment he told me to run, I’d run to escapehim. Not once have I even come close to making it off his private land.

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