Heavy torrential rain patters the window when my alarm goes off. I can hear the wind howl even through the reinforced lockdown blinds. It’s pitch black inside, though I don’t think it’d be any different with the blinds up considering it’s December and barely six am.

Sitting up, I kick the comforter aside, haul myself out of bed and slip into a bathrobe in case Carter’s up and catches me wandering the house in nothing but my night dress.

I’ve been putting on a show for him every night since he announced he’s leaving, hoping to break his resolve. I know he’s watched every second, but he hasn’t barged into my bedroom like I hoped he would. Not the first time, not the second, not even the third.

Feeling rejected again, I didn’t bother last night, even though he’s leaving today and I may have wasted my last chance. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to openly accept another dose of bleak rejection. I knew he was in the control room, taking the night shift. He’s manned it every night since my first performance. If he expected to see my pussy again, he was left sorely disappointed… just like he’s left me every night since day one here.

I crack the bedroom door open, silently entering the hallway. I manage one step before colliding with something hard.

I fall forward with a yelp, too fast to consider putting my hands out to break the impact. Instead of landing face-first on the floor, two strong arms snap around my waist.

My fight or flight instinct soars and as I take a breath to scream, I recognize his heady cologne, the help I was about to yell morphing into a surprised gasp.

“Shh, it’s me,” Carter whispers in my ear. “Why are you up?”

I swallow more air and blink rapidly so my eyes adjust to the darkness, the only light coming from the LEDs illuminating the countertops downstairs.

I shake my head to dislodge the confusion. I’m basically straddling Carter on what I think is a chaise longue.

Across the hall the door to his bedroom stands wide open, his bed obviously empty.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, keeping my voice down so as not to wake his men.

“Why are you up, Hailey?”

“You don’t answer my question, but expect I’ll answer yours? No way. You first. Why are you sleeping outside my door?”

He props himself further up, adjusting the hold he has around me, his fingers sinking into my hips. Suddenly I feel him everywhere. His strong hands, muscular chest pressed against my boobs, the warmth of his body… his hard cock touching my inner thigh, close to where I’ve been aching for him for days.

“It took me too long to hear you when you woke up paralyzed that first night. I wanted to be close in case you needed me.”

My blood immediately spikes a fever, and my heart swells like a balloon. He’s been sleeping outside my door this whole time…

Broadway’s digs and Carter’s sore neck every morning make perfect sense now.

I twitch to do something, maybe wrap my hands around his neck, or lean in for a kiss, but I freeze, waiting, because with that small, insignificant movement, his cock swells even more.

He doesn’t act on it, though. I’m in his lap, it’s dark, we’re so close, but instead of seizing the opportunity, he grips my waist and smoothly lifts me off.

“Your turn,” he says. “Why are you up?”

A hollow feeling blooms in my chest. His holier-than-thou restraint is infuriating.

“I planned to bake brownies…” I say, dragging my feet toward the staircase, then stop and turn, almost colliding with his hard pecs. “If you want to be close to me… you can sleep in my bed.”

He doesn’t grace that with an answer, resting his hand on my lower back to guide me to the stairs. Once we reach the top, he overtakes me, descending first.

A smile curls my lips, the disappointment fading and morphing to a warm feeling in my belly.

Not long ago, he was shooting his gun left and right, killing men in cold blood. A ruthless murderer, seemingly without heart or soul, but this now… the small gesture of walking ahead so I’d land on him if I tripped… melts me in ways nothing else could.

Adding to the LEDs already under the cupboards, he flips on the lights in the glass cabinets. It’s not bright, barely enough to create an ambience.

Without warning, he grips my waist, hauling me onto the kitchen island, his bare, tattooed chest in my face.

“Wait here,” he commands, his eyes flicking from mine to my lips and back. “Coffee?”

I nod, watching his muscles writhe under the inked skin as he gets to work. I swallow hard, remembering all the times I watched him cross the dorm room at Lakeside to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom.

Memories slam into me, stealing the breath from my chest. His toned body hovering over mine, the intensity of his dark stare, the way he worshipped my body. Every deep, claiming kiss, every growl and pant leaving his lips, the sweat gathering at his hairline as he powered inside me, all the while holding my gaze captive. How he scraped my neck and chin with his teeth whenever I threw my head back, drowning in the high.

“Good girl.”

“Fucking come, Hailey.”

“There it is. Ride it out.”

“That’s my girl.”

“So wet, so tight, so fucking mine.”

My heart stutters. I clench my thighs together, forcing myself back to the present when Carter hands me a cup.

The rain pelts the bulletproof blinds, not as loud now, just a low hum, muffled by the blood pounding in my head. He’s close again, so close I see the lighter specks in his almost black eyes. So close I almost touch his chin with the bottom of my cup as I sip the coffee.

He sets his by my hip, his hand brushing my bathrobe. It’s the bare minimum of contact, not skin on skin, but enough to stoke the fire inside me.

“Why are you making brownies at six in the morning?” he asks, dragging his hand down my thigh. There’s fabric between us, but goosebumps rise beneath it.

“Why not? You don’t like them? If you tell me what you like, I’ll make that instead.”

I quickly shuffle my memories of him eating at Lakeside: sandwiches, steaks, burgers… always a side salad, sometimes pasta, fruits, and occasionally… a slice of cheesecake.

“Cheesecake,” I say, meeting his annoyed stare. “You like cheesecake… well, Nashlikes cheesecake. Do you?”

“We’re the same fucking person,” he seethes, his nostrils flaring, fingers sinking into my thigh. “The man you fell in love with at Lakeside is right here. And he doesn’t want a cheesecake.”

My shoulders slump, gaze hitting the floor. If he weren’t standing this close, making my body crave his touch, I’d probably pale, but my cheeks feel warm.

“Drink,” he urges, jutting his chin at the cup in my hand.

I quickly close my lips over the rim, and Carter uses that moment to infiltrate the barrier of my bathrobe, placing his hand firmly over my knee. Desire slams into me, the feel of skin on skin like a potent drug.

Everything amplifies this moment. The heat radiating off him, the storm outside, the barely illuminated room, and his dark eyes staring into mine, gauging my reaction.

“You’re flushed, pretty girl,” he rasps, equal parts possessive and careful. “You had another dirty dream?”

I shake my head, still slowly taking one steady sip after another, scared to make one false move and risk him stopping. That’s the last thing I want. His fingers start climbing. Inch by inch, so slowly it’s fucking torture, so slowly it feels like he’s burning a path along my skin. He takes half a step closer, stationed between my knees.

“Fuck, Hailey…” he grits out, leaning into me further as his fingers completely disappear under the bathrobe. “How’s that trust coming along?” His hand starts retreating and I snatch his wrists, halting him in place.

“Don’t stop,” I plead, meeting his eyes. “Please.”

His fingers gouge into my skin, sending a delicious shudder through me. He leans in, his lips inches from mine, hot breath tickling my cheek.

But he doesn’t kiss me. Well, not on the lips like I want him to.

He stamps that patronizing peck on my forehead. “You didn’t answer my question.”

There’s a part of me that wants to trust him. The same part that’s dying to feel his mouth on mine, kissing, taking, and reminding us how good we are together, his big hands hauling me into his arms then dropping me on the bed upstairs.

But a different part of me blocks it all away. He lied. He used me, betrayed my trust, and, despite everything he said, I’m not certain he isn’t using me right now. Maybe he wants me. I knowhe wants me, but it’s temporary.

It won’t last. Nothing ever does.

“Hailey,” Carter whispers, taking a last step forward, his forehead dropping onto mine. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I shut my eyes, warding off the incoming tears. I hate feeling this way. So helpless… so confused.

I want him back. Close. Mine.

At the same time, I’m scared to suffer the consequences of believing him. Scared of the pain he’ll cause when he leaves.

He gently frees his hand from my grasp and wraps his hands around my back, pulling me in. I come willingly, seeking comfort, the familiarity of his scent, and so much more.

Too bad this is the extent he’s willing to give me unless I give him my unconditional trust. Unless I believe Carter and Nash are one.

My head lolls onto his shoulder. “I don’t trust you.”

The slow path of his fingers tiptoeing up and down my spine stills. Every muscle in his body turns to stone.

“I know. That’s okay… I can wait.”

“You shouldn’t. Life’s too short. Take what you can get.”

“I’ve waited my whole life for you… what’s a little longer?” He kisses my head again, and moves away, leaning against the cabinets on the other side.

“How about chocolate chip?” I ask flipping the topic as I hop off the counter.

“No baking, Hailey. Is that clear?”

“But—” I pause, wobbling on my feet.

Flickers of my past invade reality, teleporting me back and forth between Dad’s Ohio kitchen and this one.

Carter’s features morph from his own to Alex’s, then back.

Over and over until I’m swaying on my feet.

“No baking, Hailey,” Alex huffs, snatching his jacket off the chair. “Just fucking stop already. I don’t give a fuck about the cookies.”

“But they’re your favorite. Just try one.”

“I don’t have time for this. I need to go.”

He storms out and I flinch when the door slams. Pinching my lips together I ward off the incoming tears, glancing around the kitchen. It’s a mess. I’ve been rushing to bake these cookies on time, thinking he’d stay a little longer. Just ten minutes, but no. He never stays…

“Hailey,” Carter’s voice cuts through.

I stumble back, almost tripping over my legs when I connect with the fridge. “Sorry, I…” I don’t finish the sentence.

I’m not even sure what I want to say, so I walk around him, rushing upstairs to my bedroom.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, I chant in my mind, shaking the stiffness off my hands as I pace the room.

The door opens less than thirty seconds later and Carter stalks in, his broad shoulders squared back. He takes three long strides, dragging me into his arms.

“Do you understand?” he asks.

“Yes, no baking.”

“Do you understand why I don’t want you to bake?”

I try inching away so I can look into his eyes, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he fills his big hands with my hips and hauls me across the room to sit on the bed.

I straddle him, getting comfortable. Everything inside me starts tingling. He doesn’t like my baking, but he’s here… he didn’t leave. He’s not ignoring me.

“Are you afraid I’ll slip something in the cookies to kill you all and make a run for it?”

His eyes pop, then crinkle when a genuine smile lights up his handsome face. I love when he smiles. It always makes the blood sing in my ears.

“No, pretty girl. There’s nothing in this house you could poison us with.” He lifts one hand to brush my hair over my ear, then ghosts his fingers down my cheek.

I lean into his touch like a puppy seeking comfort. “Then why? I promise my brownies are nice.”

“I bet they’re nice, but I don’t want you to bake because you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.”

I grip his t-shirt, anchoring myself in place so he can’t push me away. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Exactly. You got up at six to bake because you think you need to earn my attention. I read your texts with Alex. You did that with him all the time.”

I swallow the bitter pill of another privacy invasion. There’s no point getting worked up over it. Given how long he’s been lying to me, I’m sure he’s done much worse than just read my texts.

“I wanted him to stay,” I say, staring at my index finger curling around the drawstrings of his sweats. “I thought that if I made something he liked, he’d find a few minutes for me… but he never did.”

“You don’t have to work for my attention. It’s on you all the time. I’m here. I listen, okay?”

“But you don’t want me. Not the way you used to.”

“There’s nothing I want more, pretty girl. You have no idea how much restraint it costs not to barge in here every time you play with yourself when you know I’m watching.” He traces my bottom lip with his thumb, eyes like molten steel.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because you don’t trust me. You still think I’m using you. You think I’ll leave you behind once I have the evidence.”

“You will,” I whisper, my fingers climbing his chiseled chest, tracing the contour of his muscles there, then around his neck. “But that’s okay. I’ll take what I can get now.”

He blinks his eyes as if my words are hurting him. “This is my fault. You didn’t doubt me until I gave you a reason.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “I’ll fix it.”

He sounds so genuine… he holds me like I’m the most precious thing in the world, but… Alex was the same when he wanted something, perfect when he had an agenda. The rare occasions I refused to let him touch me, he showered me with affection until I was no longer useful.

And Carter’s already proved he has an agenda.

He could’ve told me the truth at any point. He could’ve been honest, but he chose to lie, even though he knows that I love him.

He might have feelings for me, but they were born from necessity. He only got close to me because he was ordered to. He earned my trust to infiltrate my mind.

He’s doing the same thing right now. He’s lost my trust, and thinks if he doesn’t earn it back I won’t tell him where the evidence is—if I ever remember.

“You don’t have to fix anything,” I whisper. “If you want to do one thing for me, then please… stop pretending, okay? I don’t expect any declarations. You’ll find out what you need to know as soon as it comes back to me.”

He grits his teeth, frustration evident in his dark eyes. “I’m not pretending, Hailey. I want you and I’m not leaving. I’m not letting you go.”

“If you want me…” I run my fingers back down to his hard abs. “Take me.”

“No. I want you to give in to me because you know I’m not using you, not because you think we only have a few weeks left together and you’re making the best out of a bad situation.” He stamps another kiss on my head. “No baking, Hailey. Not unless it’s to bring you joy.” He lifts me off, setting me down beside him, and gets up, heading toward the door.

“I don’t want to stay here with Koby,” I blurt out. “Can I please come with you?”

“You are coming with me.”

My eyes grow wider. “But… you said I can’t.”

“Things changed. My father’s moving faster than I anticipated. I won’t risk leaving you here without me. I also won’t risk taking you to the bank unless we can’t access the deposit box without you, but you’re coming to Chicago. Pack a dress, we’re going out tonight.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Out? Out where?”

“Delta. I’m meeting Dante there, and you’re coming with me.”

“Is that safe?”

He smirks, holding my bedroom door open. “Delta’s already a fortress but we’ll double the security. I’ll make it safe, Hailey. Don’t worry.”

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

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