Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(16)
But it’s morning, and I’m still alive. He hasn’t chopped me into little pieces yet.
I glance around the empty loft, blinking the haze of my hangover away as I turn to glance at the glaringly bright morning light coming through the big factory windows. I try and swallow, my mouth feeling parched and dry.
“Morning.”
His rumbling, dark baritone makes me gasp, and wincing as I whirl to see him sitting in a chair next to the bed.
I shiver, realizing he’s been watching me sleep. I also realize my skirt is practically riding up to my fucking underwear.
My arm jerks to pull it down, and that’s when I remember him tying me up.
I scowl at him. “Do I really need to be tied?”
“I tried to be accommodating last night, and-” He nods his chin at his at the now righted side table I went crashing over last night, now sans lamp.
“Someone couldn’t behave.”
I say nothing, trying to swallow the thickness in my throat as he eyes me.
“Fine.”
“Do not try that again, Sierra.”
I freeze, the color draining from my face.
He shrugs. “I went through your purse. My name’s Connor, by the way.”
He stands, and I flinch as he leans towards me, but his hands go to the bind on my hands, pulling them loose and freeing my arms. His strong fingers find my wrists, rubbing me there as if to get the blood flow going, but I shrug his hands away.
He chuckles.
“So now what, Connor. I’m going to need food, you know, if you plan on keeping me here.”
“Yep.”
“Plan this out?”
He shoots me a look. “It’s being handled.”
“Oh, so you do this a lot?” I force the strength into my voice, swallowing back my fear.
“Do what a lot.”
“Take a lot of girls here and tie them to your bed?”
He smirks, looking right at me. “Seems a little personal.”
My face goes red. “I didn’t mean- I mean-”
He raises a brow at me, smiling like he’s amused by my stammering. “Yes?”
My mouth snaps shut, and he grins. He’s teasing me. He’s enjoying watching me squirm on the hook like this.
“My family is going to worry about me, you know. There are people who will look for me.”
He nods.
“People who care about me. Friends, and family, and teachers, and classmates, and people I work with, and-”
“Hey, princess?”
I scowl.
“I get it, people like you.”
“Yeah,” I sneer. “They do.”
“Of course they do.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You are very likable.”
“That’d feel more like a compliment if I wasn’t tied up.”
He grins a small, tight smile. “Where are you from?”
“Oh, are we getting to know each other now?”
“We could sit here in silence if you want,” he says evenly. “I could also gag you again.”
I glare at him.
He grins that infuriatingly cocky grin again as he taps his chin. “Let me guess. You’re a…college kid? What are you studying, fucking, liberal save-the-planet-nomics with a minor in feminist literature?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole?”
“All the time, sweetheart.”
He sips the coffee in his hand, and I eye it, wanting a sip of it so badly it hurts almost as bad as my hangover and adrenaline crash.
“Want a cup?”
“No,” I spit.
He grins, his eyes saying he knows full well I’m just saying it to be spiteful. “Suit yourself. So, college kid, am I right?”
I say nothing.
He grins. “A college kid, parents’ money-”
“I pay my own way, thanks.”
“So you are a college student.”
I scowl.
“You don’t come from a poor family though.”
“Says who.”
He smiles thinly. “Trust me, I know you don’t.”
I glance up at him, my eyes quickly taking him in in the light of day. The scruff on his chiseled, defined jaw. His strong, commanding dark eyes. The softness of his lips. The ink of the tattoos peeking out of the sleeves and neck of the t-shirt that’s stretched tight in all the right places.
I frown, looking away.
“I’m guessing you’re from, what, small town Idaho?”
I smirk. “Nope.”
He taps his chin again. “Hmmm…some nice little spot somewhere, I can tell. I bet no one locks their doors, or their cars, and they all wave to fuckin’ strangers on the street, right?”
I look down, my mind instantly going to my hometown of Shelter Harbor, north of Boston. The small town with the small-town flow, where - of course - no one locks their doors, and we wave to everyone.