Crazy In Love (Secrets of Suburbia #3) - Ivy Smoak Page 0,10

him silent again.

I walked back in front of him. "The next time we talk, I want you to remember that I put ice on your bruises last night." I lifted the ice pack that was no longer frozen. "I gave you a blanket to keep you warm. And I'm about to feed you a delicious breakfast. So there's no need for that foul language or the yelling. Okay?"

I touched the side of his face. I have no idea why I did it. To make sure he understood? Just to touch? I'm a kidnapper, not a pervert! I immediately removed my hand like his face had burned me.

He lowered his eyebrows.

Something about the action made my stomach clench. No one had ever looked at me like that. I would have thought it was a murderous glare. Like he was imagining whether to cut my body up in tiny little pieces or put rocks in my pockets and throw me in the lake. But for some reason I was imagining a different thought. That maybe he wished I was the one tied up. It was probably still in a murderous way. Not a sexy way at all. But I felt my cheeks flush regardless, and I quickly looked away.

"I'll be back with French toast." I hurried up the stairs and released a breath I didn't know I had been holding as soon as the deadbolt was back in place.

I tore the mask from my face before my tears had a chance to fall on the thin fabric. My sweater was suddenly too hot. My boots were too uncomfortable. My pants were too tight. My wig was too itchy. I kicked off my boots as I pulled my sweater off over my head.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. I buried my fingers in the fake itchy hair.

There was more to his stare than just the heat I'd imagined. There was an emptiness. He had no idea who I was. I'd feared my husband forgetting about me. Forgetting that at one point I was his whole world. And I knew it had already happened. I'd known it. For months I'd known it. But seeing that emptiness staring back at you? I never expected it to hurt so much.

I swallowed down the sob in my throat. I was nothing to him. And I needed to remember he was nothing to me. I pressed my hands on the cold quartz countertop. The coolness on my palms made it a little easier to breathe.

I'd gotten out of the basement just in time. I couldn’t let him see me being weak. The power needed to stay in my hands. And everything was going according to plan. Even though he was a little angry, he hadn't tried to escape. All the ropes were still secure. The next step was a nice, civilized meal.

I took another deep breath and walked over the fridge. This was meant to be an end. And it was a good thing we were both on the same page. I just needed to remember to stop touching him. I pulled the eggs and milk out and looked down at the lace bra I was wearing. What is wrong with me?

Abandoning the ingredients for French toast I went back upstairs to change. Again. I had the right idea last night. I threw my fancy bra on the ground like a barbarian and pulled my comfy pajamas back on. My husband didn't love me. I ran my fingers along the taser in my pocket. And I didn't love him either.

If he wanted to look at me like I was crazy and scream at the top of his lungs with all sorts of profanity? Fine. It was too late for cordiality anyway. Breakfast would be served with a side of tasing.

Chapter 5

Saturday

The latest Eminem song faded out on the radio and a Christmas tune started up. I rolled my eyes. Why did radio stations always try to slip in stupid old Christmas carols between real music? I poured the eggs into the hot pan and tried to focus on their sizzling against the oil instead of the familiar song.

I used to love Christmas. Back when I was young and in love and so naïve. So even with the sound of eggs frying, it only took me a second of the intro musical instruments to know it was Baby It's Cold Outside. The classic rapey song where the guy singing definitely slips something into the woman's drink and forces her