Six - K.I. Lynn Page 0,54

trunk.

I was free of the nightmare inside and really didn’t want to go back. Was it my punishment for Digby? Since we’d left weeks before, he’d granted me certain freedoms. I’d been allowed outdoors with him, to dress like a normal human being, and to sleep without being bound to a damn bed. I dreaded that those luxuries would be taken away.

I blew out a breath, then climbed out of the car. My hands shook as I made my way to the door. Tears filled my eyes as I peered in and, sure enough, the wire remained.

My breath sped up as tears welled in my eyes. The shaking in my hand spread through my whole body, making it to my bottom lip as cold, angry eyes stared at me.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I shut the door and slowly stepped toward him.

He grabbed hold of my chin, tilting my eyes up to meet his, jaw set as his lip curled up.

“Here’s how things are going to go.” He held up a small key in front of me—the key to the ankle cuff. “That guy is alive, for now.”

He reached down and opened up the cuff, and I held my leg out for him to click the cuff around my ankle.

Hostage again. Freedoms gone.

He took hold of my chin again. “So you understand, you make one tiny move out of line again and he’s dead. I will hunt him down and I will shove my knife into his gut, letting his entrails spill out in front of him as I dig it upward right into his heart.”

Another tear slipped down as I swallowed and nodded. Digby wouldn’t die because of me. Nobody would.

His gaze slipped from mine, watching the tear trail down my cheek before leaning forward and licking it up. A small gasp jumped from me and as he pulled back, his hand moving along my jaw, his thumb inadvertently swiping another one away.

My brow furrowed as his eyes lost their intense edge. He pressed his lips to mine, and it was unlike anything he’d done before. Soft, quick, then he stepped back. His muscles tensed again as he faced away from me, moving on to some task.

I stared after him, confused, watching the muscles in his back and shoulders contract as he pulled items out of his duffle bag.

My tongue peeked out, wetting my lips, tasting his. I sat down on the bed.

Somehow, things were different. But I didn’t know if that was different good or different bad.

All I knew was I was back to being trapped. Chained down.

Back to the beginning, with one very significant change—I knew the game.

All I had to do was play by his rules, and I’d stay on the board a little longer.

I was going to live to the fullest and when he took me down, I wanted it to be in a blaze of glory, not a pig to slaughter.

The next morning, I woke to hot breath on my neck. Six’s arm was dead weight, and it was hard to get out of his death grip.

After some fancy maneuvering, I stood and I looked down at him. There was no indication that he was awake, which was weird. He was always awake before me, and anytime I moved usually stirred him.

The cuff around my ankle pulled as I made my way to the bathroom. My reflection was a mess, and I stared in shock at my horror-movie-like appearance.

The handprint bruise was much more evident, but the freakiest part was my eyes. When I’d glanced at the vanity mirror when we were driving I thought my eyes were red from crying the day before, but that wasn’t the case. Blood red stained the white of my eyes, the left worse than the right.

“Shit!”

There was a rumble and crash, followed by the cocking of a gun and stomping of feet before Six appeared behind me. His eyes were wide, breath hard as his head swung from side to side.

“Wow. That was some kind of spaztastic.”

“What?” He shook his head and ran a hand across his face and scrunched his brow. “How?”

“Look what you fucking did,” I said, ignoring his confusion and turned around. With my finger I pointed to my eyes. “You fucking broke my blood vessels. I look like I should be in some slasher flick.”

He blinked at me. “It’ll go away in a week or two.”

Of course he knew that.

I slapped his chest. “That’s not the point! I look like a