“Emma.”
Shame flooded me. He knew. What kind of person was I? Fighting, running away, and then starting to tremble in his arms?
His hand started to caress my hip. His fingers slid underneath my shirt and moved under my pants’ waistband. He held me there, his hand splayed out. I tried to resist, but I wanted to wind my legs around him. I wanted to pull him on top of me and feel his hand between my legs. But I didn’t do anything. I lay there, still, as my heart pounded inside of me. He could feel the beat against him. The thumping drowned everything else out.
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and raised himself up again. He looked down at me. The plea in his eyes was still there. As he brushed some of my hair from my forehead, he asked, “Do you not trust me?”
I nodded. “I’m scared of you.”
A small grin appeared at the corners of his mouth. “You are?”
“I don’t know who you are anymore.” I couldn’t believe I was admitting any of that, but I needed to trust someone. I had to if I was going to survive what I had done. Feeling a little bit brave, I touched his chest. My hand spread out like his was on my back. His heart was steady. I murmured, “I know who you are. I know you’re the Cold Killer. I know what you did for AJ.” A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. It fell unheeded. “I always wanted to thank you for that.”
He tensed. “You need to tell me who you killed.”
I’d been looking at his mouth, wondering distantly what they would feel like pressed to mine, when I heard the cold tone in him again. All the warmth and desire fled from me. I tensed as well and my gaze snapped back to his. My chest surged up in a small gasp as I saw nothing in his eyes. There was no amusement, no softening, nothing.
He was the stranger again.
My hand fell away from his chest. I lay beneath him, but he retracted his touches from me. He scooted to sit on the edge of the bed.
My chest started to ache. He couldn’t leave. I needed him.
“Enough with the games, Emma. Tell me who you killed.” He turned back. His eyes were like ice again. “I would like to help you. You and AJ were my family. I would do anything for you, but you’re wasting my time.”
He was right.
I sat up and moved so my back rested against the headboard. It was time. The new Carter and my old Carter were the same person. I didn’t need to be scared of this new one. He was the ruthless one, the one that I needed help from. “I killed Jeremy Dunvan.”
He clipped out, “Where?”
“In my apartment.”
His head nodded once. “Stay here.” And then he left.
Carter was gone for a long time. I waited, but after I ate a little bit more, I curled up on the bed. As soon as I pulled the comforter over me and snuggled into the pillow, I was out. I had never fallen asleep so fast. When I woke, the penthouse was still dark. He hadn’t come back. That affected me more than I wanted to admit, even to myself. But, with a stab of disappointment and something more, I looked around for my phone. When I found it along with my purse, I headed out.
I didn’t know what to do. He said to wait, but for how long. I couldn’t sit around for too long. What if he never came back?
I sucked in my breath as pain sliced through me. He said he’d protect me, but if he never came back, did that mean I was on my own? Either way, I’d been away from Mallory for too long. She needed to know that we would need to make our own decisions. We’d have to leave. That was all there was. It was the last resort, but we were out of choices. Carter had been a long shot. I could see that now.
When I stepped out of the penthouse, there was no guard. That only reaffirmed my decision. Carter had changed his mind. We were on our own.
When I got into the elevator, I remembered that we hadn’t come from the lounge so I wasn’t sure which button to push. There was a B and a 1, so I pushed the B to take me to the bottom floor. We had come in from the nightclub, a back entrance. I didn’t think I could find my way back that way, but when the doors slid open, I saw that I was still lost. B didn’t stand for bottom floor. It was the basement. I stepped out but then thought better of it—too late. The elevator closed behind me, and when I pushed the button again, it didn’t open back up again. After waiting another five minutes, I realized the doors weren’t going to open so I turned to peruse the basement.
Standard basement. Grey cement, big posts, and lots of shiny expensive-looking cars. I walked down an aisle and caught sight of a red sign in the far corner. Exit. With a sigh of relief, I headed that way. When I got to the door, it was massive and heavy, but I pushed through. I found another small set of stairs in front of me and felt a bit like Dorothy with the yellow-bricked road. However, as I went up two flights of stairs, I heard sounds from the street coming from behind an un-marked door. I shoved it open, slipped through, and found myself in a back alley. Heading to the closest road, I was where I had been two nights ago. There was a line to get into Octave. I recognized a few of the same people in that line, even the two girls who had hoped to get picked up by celebrities. They had the same eager look of desperation on their faces. One of them eyed me up and down, but as a sneer came to her face, I turned and walked the other way. I didn’t need to return to Octave. I had already gotten my answer.
I took a cab, and when it pulled in front of Ben’s, I heaved a deep breath. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to look in her eyes and see the agony that Jeremy had put in them. I didn’t want to tell her that we would need to leave, but I had to. There was no other choice.
Since the door was locked, I knocked.
Ben swept open the door, a fierce scowl on his face. “Where the fuck have you been?”
I cringed.
He had a butcher knife in his hand with a death grip.
“Have you had problems?”