24. Infuriating Place

24

Infuriating Place

I wake up in an annoyingly comfy bed. The extra plush pillow under my head—covered in my drool—makes me want to commit murder. I sit up, wearing the same shirt and shorts from yesterday, before chucking the pillow at the locked oak door. I grunt before throwing my feet over the side, ready to continue last night's mission of banging and yelling until Cameron lets me out of his suspiciously perfect bedroom. He doesn't have a single item out of place, and the rich green accents in the comforter and throw pillows go perfectly with the oak furniture. The walls are painted cool grey over rich wood paneling, and warm light seeps from the bedside lamp. The room beats the dungeon, but somehow, I would rather be back there than in this infuriating place that reminds me of how close I was to escaping.

Cameron ignored my screaming and scratching the entire way back to his cabin. He just flung his doors open, threw me on his bed, and locked me in here without another word. Although he's an annoying ass whenever he opens his mouth, I much rather have someone to argue with than a stone wall. I banged on the door for what felt like hours but finally allowed my exhaustion to win and collapsed in his bed, engulfed with his strong, earthy scent. I tried to plug my nostrils, but it was of no use. I went to bed thinking of nothing but Cameron as much as I tried not to.

"Let me out!" I yell, banging against the door. There's no clock in his room. I just hope it's an ungodly hour and Cameron's regretting his decision to take away my freedom.

The door swings open, and I jump, nearly tripping as I step back.

"Good morning," he says coldly. Dark circles underline his eyes—usually dark but now glowing amber.

It takes me a moment to catch my beating heart and stand straight with composure. "No good morning," I bark, charging toward him. He doesn't move; he just lets me remove the space between us, staring me down with an unmovable expression. "I hope you've come to your senses and are ready to let me go."

He sighs, running his hand along his stubble, now fuller than the day before, and looks down at me. I fidget under his gaze as if just now realizing he's a werewolf that could do much more to me than lock me in his room. My mind flips to the image of us making out in his living room just a few days before. I shake my head microscopically, erasing the mirage.

"I've come to see if you'd like coffee."

"Coffee?" I nearly spit out the words.

"Yes."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Yeah, why don't you take me somewhere to get it."

His lips curve into a slight grin, and he turns. "How about the kitchen?"

I don't move for a moment, honestly shocked that he's letting me leave his room. He sits at his kitchen table across from me, bringing one of the two coffee cups in front of him to his lips.

Maybe this is a trick. I wait for another moment as he shrugs and looks at his cell phone before taking another sip. I charge toward the front door, grabbing the handle and twisting it. Of course, it's locked .

"Honestly, do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, not looking up from his phone.

I don't answer, standing at the front door with my arms crossed over my chest. I don't know what to do next. He's clearly locked this place, so I can't leave. Maybe sitting down with him is the best way to get some answers.

"Fine!" I yell after several seconds, startling him and bringing his attention away from his phone before he pushes it into the pocket of his jeans.

"Fine?"

I march toward him and pull out a chair. "Fine, I'll have coffee with you." I sit down and bring the cup to my lips but then hesitate. "Did you poison this?"

He gives me a dry glare. "If I wanted to kill you, it would be far easier than the last meal I killed."

I nearly choke on my saliva. I hope his last meal wasn't human, but I don't feel like discovering that now. He's right, though. I'd be dead by now if he wanted me to be—unless he likes to play with his food. I sigh and pick up the mug, taking a small sip. The coffee is bold and gives me an ounce of comfort. I revel in it for a moment—if only to remind myself that I'm human and not a caged animal. I change my composure. Maybe we can have a civilized conversation. "So, would you tell me why you kidnapped me? "

He folds his hands on the table and stares at me. I almost look away—his gaze locking with mine and making me feel the whispers of that itchy feeling again mixed with a heaviness in my veins, but I stay strong, holding on to the invisible line that tethers us together.

"I've already told you."

I scrunch my face. "No, you didn't."

"It's for your safety."

"Okay… what does that mean?"

He leans in closer, his scent filling my nostrils. God, does this man bathe in his own personal cologne? "You've been accused of murder, and then, instead of waiting for your trial or allowing me to collect evidence, you broke out of jail."

"Ha, it's not jail." I slap my hands on the table. "If that were the case, I'd have the right to an attorney. Don't act like there was anything normal about my imprisonment. For all I know, your kind could have been fattening me up and getting me ready for your next meal."

A vein in his temple twitches and his nostrils flare. "You might not understand the operations of our society, but that's what happens when you decide to tangle yourself up in this mess. If it wasn't me who found you, then it would have been someone who wouldn't be nice enough to allow you to sleep on their Tempurpedic bed or make you a fresh cup of coffee. "

"Okay, great!" I stand up. "Thank you so much for your hospitality and saving me or whatever, but now let me go. I'll just go get Jack, and he can protect me."

Cameron releases a disgusted laugh from the back of his throat. "Yeah, I'd like to see him try from even just a few of our pack."

I'm starting to realize why Jack hates this guy more and more. "I watched Jack defeat a werewolf with my own two eyes. He can protect me."

"So you were there during the murder. Do you know that the Were he killed was only a teenager?" Cameron stands, walking closer to me. "And to think I was going to help you."

A teenager? The thought does pull at my heartstrings. I hope he's just lying to make me feel sorry for him. "I didn't even know about werewolves at that point! Also, the thing was trying to murder me."

"It wasn't trying to murder you. The Blood Moon is a few days away, and he couldn't control his shit. He was likely trying to protect himself from the monster you were with."

I step closer to him, looking up at his stare full of hatred. "The only monster I see is the one keeping me prisoner. From what I witnessed, the werewolves have done nothing but hurt people. They killed my parents, you know. "

He scoffs. "Oh my God, you're impossible. You'll believe anything you hear."

"What am I supposed to believe, huh?"

He reaches out, touching my chest. I flinch and try to step backward, but his other hand wraps around me, holding me in place. "You know what's true in your heart. I know you can feel it."

The lava pours back into my veins, every cell in my body ignites, and the blood in my body pumps too loud for me to gather any semblance of reason.

"Your father was part werewolf."

His words knock me out of my trance, and I muster all my strength to push him back. The minute his touch disappears from me, my reason clears, and I gather all my anger to finish this pointless conversation. "And my mother was a Hunter. I was trying to discover the truth on my own, but then I was knocked out and captured, and now here I am again with my freedom taken away from me. From how I see it, I think I know what side I'm on. Now, are you going to let me go or not?"

He stares at me without a word, as if waiting for me to read the answer on his face.

I storm to his room, needing to make as much distance between us as possible. I can't think clearly when I'm around him, and I'm starting to wonder if his effect on me is some sort of werewolf power to lure in their prey. "Fine, then. If you need me, I'll be in your bedroom waiting for you to make up your mind on how you'll eat me." I say before I slam the door behind me, but not quick enough because I hear his smug little ass say, "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you."