Captive Souls Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement1

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His hands slowly, gently went to the waistband of my sweats, keeping his eyes glued to mine, searching for any kind of negative reaction.

I knew this because for the first time, his touch was hesitant, waiting. I could see that he was holding himself back.

And though I was overcome with yearning for him, I was thankful for the slower pace. My body was ready for Knox, but my mind was not quite there. I was still rattled, my edges frayed, my fight-or-flight response still in place, still recovering. Then there was the physical pain I was feeling. Tamped down somewhat by painkillers Knox had given me before he’d left to … take care of the men.

Sex wasn’t the most sensible thing to do right then. There was a laundry list of other, safer, more practical things to do.

But my soul needed that connection, to feel alive. Encased in Knox.

So though I was tense, I let Knox’s hands venture into my sweats.

“What happens now?” I asked.

We had showered, after we were done. He’d carefully washed my body then catalogued every one of my wounds with a precise eye. Nothing needed any extra care beyond time. He’d cleaned my raw wrists with antiseptic then carefully rubbed cream on them, his fingers shaking as he did so. With rage.

I was wearing my own clothes that still smelled of the simple soap I’d washed them with in the cabin. I swore, I scented the moonlight, the pine trees, the wildflowers. I longed for the place I knew was lost to us. If not forever, for a long time.

Because there was a fight ahead of us.

Knox didn’t answer, just continued brushing my hair, strokes precise, tender.

“What happens to Stone now?” I asked him, unable to stew in the uncertainty anymore. “He isn’t going to just give up.”

“No,” Knox agreed. “As long as he lives, he will hunt you.”

Unease burrowed under my skin at his words. The cold certainty in them.

“So what now?” I probed again. I trusted Knox. With my life. But I couldn’t sit with the proverbial wool pulled over my eyes and just wait for him to take care of things while I sat there wondering about what the future would bring.

“He will die,” Knox said as if it was obvious.

I stared at him. The man who loved me with a darkness that engulfed me wholly. That wrapped around me like a second skin. The man who would and had killed anyone who hurt me. Who walked this earth now with the sole purpose of protecting me.

So yes, of course, he was going to kill the head of an international crime organization to keep me safe.

Twenty

Knox

Ididn’t have friends. It wasn’t smart in my business. Beyond that, I just wasn’t capable of forming those kinds of connections. I had begrudging acquaintances who were terrified I’d kill them if they didn’t act accordingly and then targets whom I quickly killed.

No one I trusted with my life, let alone Piper’s.

Except for my brother.

My married brother with a baby daughter.

No fucking way would I involve him in this, put them in danger. Driving to Maine had been a stupid fucking mistake, so I had surveillance installed all over his house to make certain I wasn’t inadvertently tracked there.

I’d gone to great pains to ensure that Stone didn’t know of my connection to Kane, but I knew if he looked hard enough, he’d find it. There was no way I’d point a needle in that direction.

I only had one choice.

And it wasn’t a comfortable one. But Piper needed to be somewhere safe while I ended this. There was only one place, two people I considered capable of keeping her that way. If I wasn’t killed on sight, that was.

“This is a nice house.” Piper craned her neck to get a better view of the architecture. I had my eyes on the very discreet security cameras I knew had followed our every move since we’d approached the gates.

My entire body was on alert, tense. All of my instincts were shrieking at me. I was ready for an attack at any moment, and it was taking all of my effort to park the car.

Piper was unaware we had just pulled up to the house of the most dangerous and notorious hitman in the country. Doubtful anyone would’ve expected a hitman to live in an affluent suburb in fucking Connecticut.

Piper was talking about the wisteria and the charm of the house.

Only she would call a hitman’s house charming.

Despite my unease, I was almost overcome by my love for her. This person who had been kidnapped, beaten and threatened with rape, yet only twenty-four hours later could smile when talking about fucking flowers.

Her hand rose to the door handle as I pulled the car to a stop. I caught her before she could exit.


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