Novelty: A Stalker Romance (A Dollhouse Novel Standalone Book 3) by Albany Walker

Author:Albany Walker [Walker, Albany]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Albany Publishing
Published: 2023-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

WINGER

I have two options—I can pretend to leave her here, like I said I would, or I can let her take me to the safety deposit box. I don’t even know what possessed me to demand it like I did. That’s a lie, I do know. What confuses the hell out of me is how fucking angry I got when she mentioned it. I’m not an idiot, I don’t need her to tell me why she killed those men and wants to kill the others, but she doesn’t know that.

Iron told me everything I needed to know about her past. I want the list so I can hunt the bastards down myself and kill them for fucking with her and make sure they can’t do it to any other girl.

I stop myself from banging my fist on the door and knock instead. “What?” she snaps in response.

“May I come in?”

She rips the door open but blocks the entrance with her body. “You love to remind me how you can do anything you want, so why bother asking now?”

“We need to set ground rules,” I tell her in lieu of answering her question.

“Goody, I can’t wait.” She leans against the door, rolling her eyes.

“If I take you, you need to behave.”

“Or you’ll frame me for murder.” She sounds bored. “Be real with me, do I have any hope of getting out of here?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” I insist.

“You’ll just farm the job out to one of your men or send me to prison.”

I don’t agree or disagree with her. I’m not ready to tell her that I wouldn’t do either of those things. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. There will be no unscheduled stops or bathroom breaks, and I will have my hands on you the entire time.” I tilt my head back, ready for her insults or denial, especially about the last part. I doubt she would even want to be seen with me.

“Hands on me like how? Why?” Her shoulders round as she shrinks into herself. I bet she’s not even aware of it.

“Because—”

“You said so,” she says, making the wrong assumption.

“Not what I was going to say, but that works too.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Stop interrupting me, and next time, you’ll know.”

“Are you like, a crime boss or something? A baby don?”

“I’m someone who’s not used to being questioned. I’m making a lot of exceptions for you.”

“Why?” She tilts her face up, looking deceptively sweet and naïve. I wish I didn’t notice how beautiful she is.

“You ask too many questions.”

“I’m not around people often. It was of my own choosing, I don’t really like people, but lately there’s this guy who seems to think he’s running my life.”

“He must be a real asshole, making sure you didn’t die, feeding you, and ensuring your safety.”

“I can do all those things myself,” she retorts.

“Then how did the guy in the parking lot get the drop on you? He could have killed you.” Anger seeps into my tone just from thinking about what could have happened.

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