Every sway of the tires pitches me into another half-sleep. Another wave of unconsciousness drags me under until I stop fighting.
Maybe it’s good to die young.
twenty-four
Mouth dry.Head pounding. Vision flickering in shades of red before it finally sharpens.
I’m flat on a soft mattress, arms stretched above me, wrists bound in silk, the burn behind my ear outmatching the choke of whatever’s cinched around my neck.
A shadow stands at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips like a warden deciding my sentence. Sleek black belt, tailored trousers, and a look of utter, surgical disappointment.
“I’ll forgive you for not sucking my cock this morning,” he says in an even tone.
His voice soothes something deep inside me that I’ll never tell him about. Kidnapped…
By Aiden Cardell.
“What’s happening?” I ask, but the words get stuck in my arid throat. “Did… Did youdrugme?”
“Yes.”
My eyes snap open wider. “You—what?”
“Yes, Ashlyn. I drugged you.”
“Pretty sure that’s a felony.”
“Probably, but what I’m going to do to you if you try to escape me again will be worse.”
When I jerk at the cuffs, my neck yanks with it. A pinch sharpens behind my ear, like a bee buried its stinger there and died.
“There’s something on my neck?—”
“A more permanent collar.” His tone is bored, almost amused. “Only I have the key. And I have no intention of releasing you from your duties. In fact…”
He steps forward, leaning over until his crystal eyes lock onto mine with a vengeance that prickles my skin.
“I have no intention of releasing you at all.”
Terror and desire collide inside me, like an explosion beneath my ribs.
A sharp snap of his fingers cuts through the tense air as he grabs my attention. “Except to go to class. So get up. Shower and get dressed. Your first one is in an hour.”
One of his hands unties the silk wrapped around my wrists, and I hurriedly pull them in front of me, rubbing at the raw skin. I aim for the guest suite, but he sidesteps in front of me.
“Nope. My room. My bed. My bathroom… This is where you’ll stay from now on.” He points a finger toward his large bathroom at the back.
I scurry to the en suite, pajamas twisted around me, and shut the door?—
Tap. Tap. Tap.The sound is not gentle.
“Leave it open,” he says, kicking in the door.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Great.”
“Aiden!”