79. Emily

79

EMILY

W hen I blinked my eyes open again, it wasn't to the image of the cloudless blue sky that stretched on above me or to the feel of the damp grass tickling my back. Instead, I was left staring at a dark ceiling, beam after beam that made up the underside of a basement. Cohen's bedroom. The drugs starting to flush out of my system while the ropes on my wrists and ankles ensured I didn't need another dose of whatever concoction had been rushing through my veins.

It didn't matter. I wasn't gonna try to run again. Not that there was anywhere to go. I'd had my chance at freedom and watched it slip through my fingertips at the same time something else slipped between my thighs. And then it clicked. The realization that I didn't want to get away. That being trapped was so much more exhilarating than the long leash that would have me yanking so hard I'd end up strangling myself. That I enjoyed the thrill of being chased. Because Cohen Michaels wasn't the only one with an ego problem. I was shamelessly addicted to being the center of his world.

With him, I wasn't just another face in the crowd. I was the only one he saw. And I enjoyed being seen. So much more than I liked being invisible. Which made me almost as narcissistic as the man glaring at me from across the room. And twice as self-destructive.

I barely had the chance to blink before Cohen closed the distance. His large frame towering over me at the foot of the bed. He clicked his tongue, his arms crossed over his wide chest as he eyed me like I'd just been caught sneaking in after curfew.

"It's not a good look, ya know?" he grunted while lifting a challenging brow.

I shimmied higher up on the mattress, so that my shoulders were resting on the headboard, my arms still overextended at my sides. "What's that?"

"You running off. Gives the rest of the guys the impression I don't know how to handle what's mine." Cohen climbed over the bed, using his knee to spread my thighs wider apart. "And if I can't fucking handle you, ona of them would be more than happy to step in and do it for me." He brushed the loose strands off my face, his stare penetrating as he gawked at me for a moment too long to be comfortable. "Is that what you want, Emily? To have someone take my fucking place? You think someone else can take better care of you than I can, is that it?" Cohen's jaw was practically clicking in his mouth, his tone much calmer than the tension in his face.

I shook my head from side to side, my wide eyes answering for me. Truth was I much preferred the monster I knew than the ones I didn't.

One side of Cohen's lips tugged up into a smirk as he brushed a hand across my cheek, the same one he'd stitched back up not all that long ago. "I didn't think so." He shrugged a single shoulder while bearing his weight on the other arm. "I knew it had to be a… misunderstanding. That you wouldn't make the mistake of running from me again."

I wanted to tell him I didn't run the first time. That the years I spent traveling with Marisela had nothing to do with him. But that would have been a lie. I was looking for any excuse to get away from the things I'd found in those black boxes. The same things I'd stuffed into a trash bag and dropped over the bridge on our way to the airport. Which I now knew had everything to do with Cohen and what I was certain he'd done to what was left of the man they found in that car. I couldn't say his name. And I didn't dare think it without the images I saw on that television scream flashing in my head.

I could only guess Cohen could read the indecision on my face, the lies warring with the truths on the tip of my tongue. Because the next thing I knew, he was grabbing my face between the meat of his palm and squeezing. So I had no choice but to look him in the eye.

"No one will ever do the things I've done for you. No one will ever care for you the way I've cared for you. And no one will ever fucking love you the way I've loved you. From the first moment I knew you were meant to be mine, Emily."

"You don't love me. You love the way I make you feel," I mumbled between pinched cheeks, watching as Cohen barked out a loud, humorless laugh that had his teeth gnashing and his lips curling into a snarl.

"Isn't that the same thing?"

I shook my head, as much as I could while my jaw was being pressed against my neck. "No, it's not."

Cohen smirked, dropping his mouth so that it was just a breath above mine before he whispered against my lips. "But it could be. It could be whatever I want it to be, pet. And I think it's time we've both accepted there ain't shit either of us can do about it."