Page 39 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

Guilt sluices through me and carries me to my front door. I have a practiced apology on my lips when I fling it open. A dark shadow of a man stands on the shadowed entrance this man taller and broader than Bo. Without thinking, I bolt from the door toward my bedroom where I keep a Glock in my nightstand for emergencies. Chief took my department issued piece, but I’d be a fool not to protect myself.

As I run down my hallway, the front door slams and heavy footsteps thunder after me. I’m bent over, dragging my gun from the drawer, when a strong arm hooks my waist. I turn feral in his grip and claw at him the moment the gun slips from my hand. He forces me onto the bed, pinning both wrists to the sheets.

“Calm the fuck down, Jade.”

Breathe.

I stop struggling and get lost in the chocolate eyes I hadn’t seen in a few days.

Dillon.

“I thought you were…” I trail off, my voice hoarse.

“Him?”

Nodding, I take stock in the way he feels pressed against me, his powerful hips crushing my own. His grip on my wrists is painful and I know I’ll be sporting bruises for days.

You’re used to it. Benny would bruise you in the bed all the time, dirty little doll.

I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to drive the madness out of my head. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” I blurt.

Dillon chuckles, but doesn’t release me. It causes his body to brush closer to mine and my nipples peak in reaction. When I reopen my eyes, he’s staring at me with a look I’ve never seen from him before.

Want.

I think that’s what the swirling in his eyes means, the heating of his cheeks and tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip.

“Station’s been lonely without you.”

Still, he doesn’t move.

Heat trickles just below my skin and I roll my eyes. “Nobody misses me there. They all hate the crazy girl.”

He frowns as his eyes drop to my lips once again. It makes my heart thump loudly in my chest. “I missed you.”

My mouth parts open in shock. Before I can reply, he lets me go and stands back up. I’m sprawled out on my back, my chest heaving and forbidden desire whirling through my veins. He skims his gaze over my breasts before giving a slight shake of his head, as if to clear it.

“Get dressed,” he barks as he storms from the room. “I’m taking you to put some meat on that bony body of yours.”

As soon as he leaves, I look down at my taut belly and hard nipples tenting the fabric. The camisole had ridden up, revealing my stomach flesh to him. A ripple of excitement courses through me.

Wait—did he say food?

I attempt to remember the last time I actually ate something and for the life of me, I can’t recall. All those years in Benny’s attic taught me how to survive on the bare minimum. Poor Bo thought it was his duty to keep me fed.

But Bo left you.

And now Dillon is going to feed you.

This time, I don’t push away the shameful thoughts.

I enjoy each and every one of them as I dress.

I have an obsession with burgers. I squeeze the bun, spilling the oils and cheese out the side before stretching my mouth so wide, there’s a slight sting in the corners, and devour each and every bite.

“Hungry?” Dillon muses, pushing his bowl of fries toward me. I help myself to one and dip it in my shake before shoveling it past my lips.

“It’s not going anywhere,” he says with a warm, deep laugh. “I can order you more.”

---