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“Learn what?” My chin trembles as I ask the question.
“That I know what’s best for you and exactly what you need, love.” Nearly submerged in now tepid water, goosebumps prickle over my skin at his words.
“Sometimes you might not like what you need,” he rubs his hand over the now pimpled flesh of my arm, “but it’s always for your best.”
My eyelids flutter as I try to keep my welling tears at bay.
How is it possible for my stomach to drop and my heart to swell at the same time?
Is this man going to love me?
And care for me?
Or am I going to wind up like ‘the others.’
Dead.
Nothing more than a name—maybe a photo—inside one of Detective Michales’ folders.
Samuel pulls the plug, and the sudden gurgle of water draws me from my thoughts. He releases me from his embrace and nudges me slightly, encouraging me to stand. As I do, he rises behind me and climbs from the tub.
Grabbing two towels, he wraps one around me and lifts me out, placing my feet on the plush bathmat before wrapping the other towel around his waist.
Water drips from him as he meticulously dries every inch of my skin. Once he’s satisfied, he leads me from the bath and down the hall. We stop outside the room that was mine for a few nights before Samuel had me join him in his bed.
“This will be your room tonight.” His words are cold, and I’m surprised to find how much they hurt.
I don’t even know if I want to be in his bed, but why doesn’t he want me there?
“Why?” I can’t seem to stop the question from spilling over my lips.
He opens the door and ushers me inside. His fingers lightly grip my jaw and tilt my chin up toward his face. My breath sputters, and I freeze as he dips his head and presses his lips to mine. Pulling back just a hair, his words vibrate against them. “I think you need a little time to think about what you’ve done and how to do better.”
Releasing my chin and stepping backward, he is quickly on the other side of the threshold.
“I have somewhere to be this evening, and I don’t think you’re in a state to come.” He pauses for a moment as he reaches for the knob. “I trust you’ll behave.”
The door clicks shut and tears begin to trickle down my face as relief washes over me. Mere seconds of relief… Until my heart is figuratively pulled from my chest.
Running to the door, I grip the handle only to find it doesn’t turn. He’s locked me in.
“Samuel!” I scream his name as my tender palms painfully slam against the door. But my cries are met with silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SAMUEL
Making my way down the long, tree-shrouded driveway, I head toward the estate for tonight’s festivities.
This isn’t how I intended to spend tonight.
I had planned to bring Cora with me. We’ve enjoyed a few girls together, those we’ve picked up at bars and ones we’ve hired for a few hours of fun.
I had plans for tonight that we both would have quite enjoyed. My cock twitches at the thought of being deep in her throat as she screams around me from some girl’s face being buried between her thighs.
Parking along the circular drive, I park beside two other cars—William’s and Edmund’s. I make my way up the steps and am pleased to find the help waiting with a freshly poured Sam Adams Utopias. Sipping my beer, I head into the house and toward the study.
As usual, Liz is cozied up on William’s lap. The two of them are so engrossed in one another that they barely acknowledge that I have entered the room. Edmund sits at the bar, scrolling through his phone, enjoying a gin and tonic with extra lime.
