“But what happens when you get to one?” I ask, still determined to find out his answer. Holly once told me that Ian doesn’t make empty threats, and I believe her. He must have had something in mind when he started counting down, and I want to know what it is. I want to know everything that goes on inside his brain. Every dirty, sadistic thing he thinks and says and does just adds to who he is, and I’m already addicted to him. Every bit I get, even this first touch isn’t enough.
“I own you at one.” His words feel like they’re meant to be menacing, shrill even. But instead they come out like a warm blanket intended to comfort me. I doubt he feels it, the heat radiating from us. But I do. It’s so warm and comfortable and everything I want and need in life. He is by far the best addiction I’ve ever had. I want to tell him that he already owns me. I could convince myself that this will work out. I can pretend it doesn’t hurt anymore or that I’m not too damaged for this. I can fake it with the best of them.
“I’m here.” I rub my cheek against his rough skin and let my eyes fall closed in delight. This doesn’t scare me. For once, my heart isn’t beating out of my chest and I’m not retreating back into that place where everything’s so disgusting and hollow that I’d rather die on that dingy carpeted office floor than to breathe for another second.
But that was just before Ian strode into the room and stood guard to protect me, shield me, from the others. He spoke with such care in an effort to not cause me any more pain. And months later, he’s still being careful with me.
“Good girl. You don’t want me to own you.” When he says the word want, his voice pitches slightly as he sucks in a deep breath.
“Why not?” Do I really want to know? Yes, I think I do.
“Because you need gentle. Safe.”
“I feel safe with you.” I need to just shut my damn chatty mouth already.
“You’re not.”
Chapter 3
“Been awhile since you’ve been around,” the old man says with a flat expression and absolutely zero amusement at my presence. Harry Mercer isn’t a fan of Forsaken, and he’s definitely not a fan of me. Not that I give a fuck. Mindy’s gotten under my skin, and his constant, thinly-veiled threats of jail do nothing to deter me.
“Missed me?” I ask, letting my mouth lift into a rare smile. From the way his expressionless face slides into a frown, I’m betting it’s more sinister than intended. I don’t actually want to fight or argue with the old bastard. I will if he insists, but I have more important shit to deal with. Like his daughter’s little outing the other night. She must have known from the moment she saw me that I wasn’t fucking around, because she ran like her life depended on it. Once I was able to calm down a bit, I realized I’d scared her, and that’s the last thing I want. Mindy should never fear me. What we have is built on something deeper than that, but if I have to scare her to force her to submit to what’s best for her, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m just glad my boys got my back with this shit.
Harry and I stand, staring at one another wordlessly for a few minutes before he blows out a frustrated breath and steps aside to let me in. He tries, but he never has been able to outwait me. He’s a patient man, but I’ve been at this game longer than he has. I reach up and brush the scar on my face as I stride into the house and down the hall to Mindy’s bedroom thinking about the man I’ve been waiting almost twenty-one years for.
Soon, Carlo.
Soon.
Her bedroom door is closed, but there’s no lock on it, so nothing stops me as I twist the knob and swing the door open. I keep my eyes on the carpeted floor beneath my black boots and ignore the surprised scream that comes from the corner of the room. I’ve never seen in Mindy’s bedroom before, and as much as I want to look around, I fight the urge. I couldn’t barge in here and see her in a compromised position and not hate myself for it. She’s been violated in so many ways already. She deserves nothing but respect and love and to be cherished by a kind and gentle man.
Too bad for her she’s got me instead.
“Ian?” Her voice is confused, but I hear the excitement beneath her curiosity. Her sock-covered feet come into view as she crawls off her bed and comes to stand before me. My eyes trail up her covered legs, past her tank top, and finally settle on her light green eyes. The last time I saw her, she looked so different. I wanted to touch her on that playground so fucking bad that my veins burned with the desire for it. I wanted to cover her with myself, wrap her around me, and possess her in every way possible. She doesn’t want that, though, so I settled for almost touching her. She surprised me when she tilted her cheek into my cupped hand. Before that moment, I thought her wanting me to touch her was just a fantasy my sick brain had conjured up. But now there’s this disgusting hope settling in my stomach and worming its way into my soul.