For the briefest of seconds, I swear I’ve broken him. The darkness in his eyes cracks, and my breath catches in my throat.
But then, as fast as it appeared, it’s gone again, shattering my hopes into even tinier pieces than they already are.
“I’ll take my chances, if it’s all the same to you, Princess.”
I bare my teeth at him in irritation, but all he does is smirk.
Yeah, I didn’t think for a second that made it at all intimidating.
“I’m gonna get on the bike, and you’re going to follow. Daddy wants his princess locked back up in her castle, and that’s how this is going to go.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” I mutter when he’s finally released me and taken a step toward me. “Maybe everyone hasn’t been underestimating you. Maybe you are just a cold, heartless wanker.”
He sucks in a sharp breath at my words, but that’s the only reaction he gifts me with before he kicks the bike from its stand and pushes it out of the garage, closing and locking the door behind him.
Throwing his leg over the beast of a machine, he glances over at me, a barely veiled threat of what he might do should I refuse his instruction shining bright in his eyes.
“Hide as much as you like, devil boy. I see you. I see your mask, your act. Your lies.”
“Get on the motherfucking bike,” he hisses.
With little other option, I finally do as I’m told.
Putting my foot on the little handle thing, I throw my leg over and settle myself behind him, wishing like hell there could be some kind of barrier between us right now.
His arse nestles perfectly between my thighs, and I silently curse him out.
“Put this on,” he demands, passing me a helmet. “And do it up tight.”
“Yes, boss.”
I do as I’m told, and by the time the thing is secured on my head, the engine is rumbling beneath me and Daemon is impatiently waiting to take off.
“Hold on.”
“I am,” I say sweetly, my fingers wrapping around the handles on either side of my hips.
“Not what I meant,” he growls, reaching back and wrapping his fingers around my wrists.
My hands are tugged from the bike, and in a heartbeat, my arms are wrapping around his waist, my palms pressed to his tense abs.
“No, I—” I try to pull my arms free, but he holds me in position too tightly.
“Do as you’re told, Callista.”
“I hate you,” I seethe. “I really fucking hate you.” Those words are so far from the truth it’s laughable, but right now, they’re exactly what I want him to believe.
“Good. You should.”
Before I get to even think about a response to that, he guns the engine and I have no choice but to hold on for dear life as he takes the sleepy street at a dangerous speed.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was trying to outrun his demons. But we all know the truth. He’s driving straight toward them.