Page 60 of Insatiable

Barry nods. “I’ll see what I can do. You should sleep.”

“Yeah,” I say with a yawn.

I’m tempted to go back to the room, just to see her, but that would just be feeding the possessive side of me that watches her every fucking step on a daily basis.

I’m my own worst enemy.

I hate her, but I can’t live without knowing what she’s doing.

After ten minutes and another smoke, I pull up my secret app, transfer funds to it and make different travel arrangements.

I have more than enough from contracts, clients and business shares, so money isn’t an issue when it comes to travelling. With the number of assignments I’ve done over the last two years, my bank account could rival my mother’s and Ewan’s combined.

Tonight’s contract earned me three hundred grand. It took me less than an hour to get the job done. I used to hate it, but not as much now. It’s fuelled a deep hunger in me for blood and havoc.

I get an adrenaline rush when I hurt people.

I know it’s wrong, but it’s built into me now. I can still see the blood of the guy I beheaded tonight and hear his screams for help as I chased him with a machete in my balaclava.

Once I arrange a time and place for my jet to land and refuel, I message Stacey.

Me: Get ready. The jet leaves in a few hours.

Me: And deal. Try to keep your hands to yourself.

15

STACEY

My body is on fire.

Kade’s lingering touches are like ghosts on my skin.

I have no idea what happened. One minute, I was on all fours and ready – waiting for Kade to fuck me from behind. My heart was beating so fast, a spark in my chest that we were so close again. And next he’s white as a ghost and rushing into the bathroom with his usual crappy comments.

You never change, do you?

Apparently not. Not when it comes to him. How can we be apart for two years and fall back into this? Before, we were learning about each other’s bodies and ways to make the other feel good.

We would explore and live and love, and then we’d lie in each other’s arms after. There was no rudeness or him degrading me in hurtful ways.

Embarrassment burns through me. From him noticing the bruises and scars Chris has littered me with to letting him – someone who claims to despise me – make me orgasm…multipletimes.

He hates me. That much I’m aware of. But he’s also confusing me. We went from close to fucking to him telling me we’re travelling on a private jet.

And why was there a security guard outside my room? Kade excused him when he came to the room and grabbed my bags, not answering any of my questions about how it’s possible we’re getting on a private jet.

I’d shoved on my closest outfit – a black summer dress that sits mid-thigh. He’d raised his brow when he saw what I was wearing – it’ll be perfect for America, but it’s the middle of the Scottish winter here.

Now we’re driving in silence, and I keep fisting my dress from the thick tension still between us.

I continue glancing at Kade while he drives us to a twenty-four-hour McDonald’s before the flight, waiting to see if he’ll break the silence. But he’s on his third smoke and blasting music, so I highly doubt he will.

“The Death of Peace of Mind” by Bad Omens is playing loud enough to hurt my ears, and when I try to turn it down, he grabs my wrist without looking at me. “Don’t touch my fucking radio.”

I yank my arm away from his electrifying touch, huffing and slouching in the seat. “I prefer the old Kade. This new one is a buzzkill and a moody prick. You don’t need to keep treating me like shit.”

No reply. Not even an insult.

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