“Why?” his voice was guttural now, but Emma still didn’t notice.
“It requires caring, doesn’t it?” she said airily. He watched her run her fork around her plate, scraping up the last of the pesto sauce. It suddenly struck him that she was being ungrateful ... maybe even rude. He’d gone to a lot of trouble for her, and here she was, insulting him.
“Do you think I’m a heartless son of a bitch or something?” he asked, his voice growing deeper. Emma looked up, and uncertainty flashed across her face. She’d finally grasped she was digging a hole she might never get out of.
“No,” she said timidly.
Ace couldn’t help it ... he was furious. It wasn’t even because Emma had done anything wrong. It pissed him off that she’d made an assumption about him that was clearly untrue, but he was really angry because he couldn’t fight his feelings for her.
Sitting quietly at the table, connecting over a meal, these simple pleasures were having a profound effect on him. He liked the ease of it, just hearing her voice and not thinking too hard. It was almost … peaceful.
If I had a home, this is what it might feel like.
“So, whatdoyou think?” he yelled, terribly afraid of the answer. Even though he was directly protesting the idea that she thought he was a brute, he couldn’t help acting like one. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, and he hated himself for it.
He hated himself even more for the expression on her face, the way their calm conversation had been shattered by his temper. Emma stared down at her empty plate.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to think. I’m really sorry. Please understand, you see the kind of men that my uncle sends to my home. I know what a mob does, and since I am a burden to my family, they really don’t care what kind of men they send. I have had guns in my face, threats to kill me, and other times they just come in, tell me to shut up, and they do their job as if I am invisible. I really am sorry, Ace, for just assuming everyone in the mob acts like the men that pick up the packages.” He could see the tears of regret and pain forming in her eyes.
The defeated tone and downturned eyes pissed him off even more. She was a submissive, gentle thing, and he really was a brute.
“Fuck this!” he cried. He stood suddenly, grabbing her arm, so she was forced to stand. He didn’t listen to her cries as he dragged her across the room and threw her on the bed.
He was worried that Benny and Fritz could come back, but he had a collection run to take care of. He also had to get away from her, even if it was just for a short time. He didn’t like what she was doing to him.
Damn it, man, our mate is scared and in danger, and you are acting like a brutal maniac. We need to comfort her, protect her and treat her like the treasure she is.
He tightened the cables extra hard this time, ignoring her soft crying. She didn’t scream or sob. She just sniffled and gasped as if she thought any sudden movement might set him off again. He was worried it might be because he clearly couldn’t control himself around her.
“Where are you going?” she whispered, almost apologetically. He stepped back, surveying the knots and tightly tied cables.
“Collection run,” he snapped. “I won’t be long.”
She nodded, sniffing. His eyes wouldn’t leave her as if he literally couldn’t look away.
He had her cracked cell phone in his pocket, so even if she got free ... and he was sure she couldn’t ... she wouldn’t be able to call for help. Just as he turned to walk out the door, he felt a stab of guilt run through him that carved his heart in two.
He took a step closer to the bed, and she flinched.
Good. Be afraid.
“You wanted to know what it's like to be a shifter?” he asked, standing over her and glaring into her eyes. “I’m a wild animal. Always. Savage and vicious. The best thing you can do is not provoke me.”
He saw her lip tremble. She was going to cry.
Ace didn’t want to see it. He felt bad enough already. He kept telling himself that he couldn’t get close but pushing her away was even harder.
He left the apartment, slamming the door on the way out. His insides twisted in turmoil, his stomach torn with anxiety, and his heart was sick in his chest. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter10
Emma
Emma looked at the ties that restrained her and sighed. Last time, she managed to slip through, but he’d tied them tighter this time, making it almost impossible.
After trying for ten minutes, she gave up, red marks blooming from struggling. She let out a breath, surveying her space, taking in the cleanliness. She had to admit she was impressed with how everything looked now that it was organized.
Everything was spotless, and she could only thank Ace for that. He'd scrubbed the floor and scraped her dishes clean. Her windows were cleaned, and all of her laundry was done and put away. Her bathroom was spotless. The floors were waxed, and her rug was vacuumed. She hadn't seen her place so clean since she first moved in.