“I don’t want her.” Keiran said nonchalantly. The way they were talking about her as if she was a piece of meat pissed me off.
“You know Keiran. He prefers sleeping with the enemy. He’s kinky like that.” They all laughed at Keenan’s crack. Hardy har har. I didn’t find anything funny.
“So what’s the plan, man? I know you need to know if she is guilty and not just for pay back.”
“Wait around for her to crack. I’ve got three weeks.”
“The aunt. She hot?”
“I see where she get’s her looks from.” Keiran stated, not directly answering the question.
“Fuck hot then.” A slap resounded in the air and Keenan cried in pain again. I couldn’t feel sorry for him. I wasn’t even flattered that he thinks I’m hot.
“What are you going to do if she’s innocent?” Dash asked. I held my breath waiting for his response until I was sure I was turning blue.
“Doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t,” Keiran stated with disinterest. “It won’t change anything.”
Chapter Sixteen
I’d given up on eavesdropping and headed back upstairs to shower. There was nothing more that I needed at this moment than my bed. The house was quiet when I finished my shower and left the bathroom so I assumed they finally left. I guess my guns were tougher than Keiran’s after all. He’d probably gotten bored and left, I guessed. I was proven wrong when I pushed open my bedroom door and found him lounging on top of my bed.
“Ready to talk yet?” he asked as his smooth voice filtered through the room. He was holding my journal open in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked.
“Rereading my favorite bed time story. There are new entries in here,” he said without looking at me. The familiar feeling of dread returned as I watched him read my journal. I started back writing two weeks ago when the first strings of depression and loneliness began to take root. There was no one else I could tell so I told my journal. I usually kept my entries short but it was now almost full. It felt like I was running out of time as well.
“My journal is private. You have no right,” I growled. I looked around my bedroom for something to throw at him or better yet gouge his eyes out with.
“I have every right considering most of it is about me.” He looked way too comfortable lounging against my pillows and reading all my secret thoughts and feelings. They were mine.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You wouldn’t talk so I had to find another way for you tell me what I need.”
“And did you find anything?” I asked sarcastically.
“I found plenty.” He closed the journal but still held it in his hand, probably to drive me crazy. I wanted it out of his hands so bad. I couldn’t erase what he already knew but maybe it would take some of the humiliating pain away.
“Good then you can leave,” I urged.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Get out. I don’t want you here,” I said firmly.
“I think you want much more from me than you’re willing to admit out loud,” he quipped while waving my journal and tossing it on the bed. Finally. “Come here,” he beckoned.
“No.” I braced my feet on the floor to ward off the power and the spell he wielded over me. The one that made me obey.
“You’re going to make me come get you then?”
“If you must,” I said and clutched my towel tighter around me.
“Monroe?” He called quietly, his voice was soft but the look he gave me was intense as his eyes swept my body with burning lust.
“Yes?”
“Are you sore?”
“No,” I answered, feeling my * clench. It was eager for what was coming and so was I, I admitted begrudgingly.
“When I get my hands on you,” he said, rising from the bed, “I’m going to fuck you hard and I’m going to make you come harder.” He shed his shirt as he took slow steps toward me. “Are you ready for me?”