I look around the room like maybe she has the place rigged to blow. Liesel wouldn’t kill a room full of innocent people, though. No, if she plans on killing me, it will be personal.
The event ends, and Liesel and the group on stage wave before heading backstage.
The crowd begins to move toward the exits, but I slowly walk toward where she disappeared, trying to decide how I’m going to kidnap her, once again.
“Sir, if you aren’t with the campaign, then you need to exit through the back, please,” a man says. He’s wearing all black and has white lettering that says security on the front of his shirt. I could easily take him out, but I don’t want to cause a scene.
I’ll just have to wait outside. I open my mouth to apologize but am interrupted.
“It’s okay, Oliver, he’s with me,” Liesel suddenly says from behind him.
I frown. This is definitely a trap. I don’t like this at all.
Oliver nods at me, and I walk past him toward Liesel, who is now walking quickly down the hallway. What is she doing?
A few people give their sympathies to Liesel as we pass. She nods politely and thanks them but doesn’t introduce me, even though they all stare at me, expecting an introduction.
I don’t know what she’s going to do if we run into Nolan, Maxwell, or someone who actually has the balls to ask who I am.
Finally, we get to the end of the hallway, and she pushes me into a room before slamming the door shut behind her. She doesn’t turn on the lights, but I realize from the cleaning smell that we are in a janitor’s closet.
“Kinky. You want to fuck me in a closet at the memorial service for your fiancé. I didn’t think you had it in you, but I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”
“You’re disgusting. And if that’s what you really think, you’re no better. I just killed your best friend, and you’re still willing to fuck me? Always thinking with your cock instead of your brain.”
I grab her by the neck and shove her hard against the wall, until the beautiful sound of her struggling to breathe hits my ears.
“I didn’t come here to fuck you. I came to kidnap you. It’s time we end this.”
She tries to say something, but she can’t.
I release enough for her to speak.
“Good. Take me to your island. Let’s finish this,” she says.
Of all the ways I imagined kidnapping Liesel, her willingly agreeing to go with me wasn’t one of them.
I smirk. “Who said anything about going to my island? My island is too good for you. No, where we are going is much darker, much more dangerous, and only one of us will come back alive.”
4
Liesel
This should be my nightmare—trapped in a dark closet alone with Langston, the man who killed my fiancé. The man who kills as easily as he breathes. With his hand on my throat, I know he can feel my pulse. It should be racing out of fear, but after everything that has happened, I know he’s not here to kill me, not yet.
No, my body is screaming for a fucking kiss. For him to steal a kiss from me because if I gave one willingly, it would be a betrayal to Waylon. Now that he’s dead, it’s almost more important that I don’t betray him.
All I can do is lean into Langston and hope he closes the space.
He won’t, but that doesn’t stop our bodies from edging closer to that ominous cliff. Once we fall over, we won’t ever be the same. We won’t be able to go back. Perhaps that’s why we’ve never crossed the line. Never done anything other than kiss and play with each other. Never fucked. Never made love. Never been that intimate.
Flashes of him being that intimate with Phoenix are permanently branded across my eyes.
Langston is married to her, but he doesn’t love her. That should be enough to ease my pain, but it doesn’t.
I will never admit it out loud, but I want Langston all to myself. I want his every br
eath, every heartbeat, every kiss, every touch, every orgasm. I want it all, as much as I want to kill him for what he’s done.