“I need to take you back to your room.” I glanced to the torn black nightgown on the floor, then to the white shirt I tossed next to it. “Here.” I grabbed the shirt and handed it to her. “At least this will cover a little more.”
Her heart-shaped lips curved into a wicked grin, teasing, commanding me to kiss them again. “I went from washed-out rag to a silk nightgown and now one of the Boss’s shirts. Seems like I’m moving up in the world.”
I grabbed her hips and jerked her against me, letting her feel how hard and ready I was to fuck her again. “That happens when you fuck the Boss.”
She chuckled, and Jesus Christ, the sound made my chest ache. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, and it was like a switch got flipped inside me, turning me from a man who wanted to kill her to a man who wanted to spend his last dime if it meant making her laugh.
“Come on.”
“Castello?”
This time I snickered. “You will never call me sir, will you?”
She cocked a cheeky brow. “Not unless the Boss wants to play, no.”
“Well, we’re done playing.” I glanced down at her. “For now, at least.”
I grabbed my jeans and a new shirt from the closet, pulled them on, and walked to the door. Tatum remained silent and still.
“What is it?”
Her soft eyes found mine. “Did something change?”
“I don’t know…maybe.” I roughed my hand through my hair. “Yes.”
She looked down at her hands clutched in front of her. “What changed?”
How could I explain to her what was going on inside this head of mine if I didn’t understand it myself? How did I tell her that she managed to thaw the ice that had been occupying my veins for so long? That I was convinced she would be my undoing, but that I would embrace my downfall if it meant seeing her in chains every night, hearing her scream my name while all her pleasure belonged to me? For the first time, loyalty wasn’t my driving force anymore, but rather my desire…for her. But between all of that confusion running rampant inside me, I felt on edge, like disaster was looming around the corner, waiting to strike.
“I’m not sure, Tatum. I’m not sure what changed.”
“What is going to happen to me?”
I sighed, glancing up at the ceiling before I looked down at the floor. “I don’t know. God, I don’t know anything right now.”
My answer didn’t set her at ease. It wasn’t meant to. I wasn’t sure if there was any guarantee that this entire situation would turn out okay—for her or me.
“Come on. We better get you out of here before the rest of the house wakes up.”
I saw the reluctance in every step she took, the fear and doubt that plagued her. If there was a way for me to be able to relieve her of that burden just a little, I would have done it. Goddammit, this was all too surreal, going from a man who wanted to punish her to a man who wanted to spare her any kind of torment.
We walked in silence down the dark halls. There was nothing we could say—nothing I could say. For months, I felt powerful as the Boss of this family, and now, for the first time, I felt completely helpless.
Every step we took toward her room felt like we were both on fucking death row, and too soon we stopped in front of the security door that led to her prison. The heaviness that fell over us as I punched in the code was downright toxic.
I opened the last door and let her walk through first.
A kidnapper with manners.
I leaned against the wall and admired how she looked in my white t-shirt. Her perfectly curved legs teased me. Her toned thighs taunted me. And the way her blonde curls fell elegantly around her shoulders, the ends reaching the curve of her back—Tatum Linscott had become the epitome of perfection to me. When or how that happened, I had no fucking clue. But it did happen, and I had no idea what to do with that. All I knew was I no longer wanted to take her life, but rather take her—for myself. I just needed to figure it out…somehow.
A sheet of white paper on the floor caught my attention. “Did you draw?”
She leaned against the opposite wall. “I did.”
Silence.
“Thank you,” she whispered.