Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Ye’re not leaving.” He says through the door. “Ye’re going to stay right here with me.”
His footsteps move down the hall, away from me, and I slam my hand against the wood.
“This is called kidnapping, you know!”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sasha
Accepting my fate, I slip out of my jeans and sweatshirt and raid Ronan’s drawers for a tee shirt to sleep in. He does have them, which surprises me for some reason. Track pants too. I open up his other drawers out of curiosity and find several stacks of the same pairs of black briefs.
Even though he just locked me in his room and I’m annoyed at his fucked up methods of trying to protect me, I can’t help imagining what he would look like in the briefs. I’ve never seen him naked. I’ve only ever been graced with a small glimpse of his powerful body. His chest and his arms, which were littered in scars and battle wounds that seemed worse than I expected.
I know what Ronan’s job in the mafia is. I know that they call him the Reaper. And the day that I snuck down in the basement, I knew he was down there with Donny. But I needed confirmation. I needed to know for certain that he was going to be the one to kill Donny. Because a sick and twisted part of me wanted that. Wanted Ronan to be the one to exact vengeance on the piece of shit who treated me like a dog. Like a worthless whore who was only good for opening her mouth and getting him off whenever it suited him.
I knew Ronan would make him suffer for what he did. And I got off on the idea of it. Of the man who threatened both of us being wiped from existence. But what about the other men Ronan kills? I think about them often. Who they are, and if they’re just as bad too.
I want to believe that they are. To justify what he does. I know Ronan has rage inside. I’ve seen it first hand when he killed Blaine. But even then, it was justified. And when I look at him, all I see is the calm. He’s my anchor in the stormy sea. The one that keeps me from being pulled away into the chaos.
But Ronan needs an anchor too. Whatever caused those scars on his body, whatever caused him to be the way he is… so guarded, so untrusting, so quiet… it makes me question my own humanity. Because if I was faced with the men who did that to him, I would want to kill them too.
With a sigh I shut his dresser drawers and crawl into his bed. The sheets are stiff and not very comfortable. Shocker, I know. But they smell like him, and that makes me feel safe. I wonder what he’s doing. Where he’s sleeping. But these are dangerous thoughts to have. Because I can’t get pulled back in.
This situation is only temporary.
That’s what I keep telling myself as I curl up and bury my face into his pillow. I can’t be angry at him though. My kidnapper and my protector are one in the same. He’s trying to take care of me in the only way he knows how. And it’s oddly fucked up.
Come morning, I will try to have a rational conversation with him. But until then, I allow myself to fall asleep in the sanctuary of his bedroom.
***
I stretch out on Ronan’s bed and yawn.
The bed itself isn’t very comfortable, but I slept better than I have in a long time. I can smell coffee brewing from somewhere inside the house, and I suspect he’ll be in soon.
I pad across the room and decide to raid his drawers again since I don’t see any of my stuff in the room yet. I pull open the drawer that had his track pants and grab a pair off the top. But then I feel something beneath them that catches my attention.
I flip through the rest of the cloth until I find a cardboard box hidden beneath. Pulling it out, my curiosity is riled. I bring it back to the bed with me and open it up. And my breath completely flees with what I find there.
The first thing I recognize is an earring I thought I’d lost forever. It’s old and just a plain jane sterling silver braided hoop, but it’s one of my favorites. I used to wear them all the time.
I slide my finger over the grooves and set it aside, digging through the rest of the contents. There are handwritten notes in there. Notes I left for the other dancers. Even a few I’d left in Lachlan’s office regarding the schedule. They are nothing of significance, but Ronan kept them for some reason.