Page 58 of The Puppet Master
I don’t answer, which is a response in itself. When Sawyer pulls the drain for the tub, the tub answers with a deep, sucking roar—a declaration of the winner, condemnation for the loser.
I swallow and don’t immediately get up when he urges me to. It was always going to come to this, but I still can’t help but blame myself.
This is what happens when you play with fire.
CHAPTER 14
SAWYER
The girl’s lower back arches from my touch as I lead her toward the bedroom, lantern lighting our steps like we’re courting in the eighteenth century.
A new floorboard groans with every step I take, while Luna makes no noise at all. She hugs the dingy towel tightly around herself andfloats, her steps so light, they’re silent. Dancers' feet. The poster of poise. If she didn’t stand out so starkly—both in wit and appearance—she’d make an excellent assasin.
We cross the threshold into a bedroom bare of all but a simple queen-sized mattress on a hideous midcentury frame, bloated roses carved into the headboard like a garden built for the celibate.
I set the lantern on the floor and go to the window. Dust rattles off the dark, heavy curtains as I draw them to reveal the first break of dawn. It peeks from the horizon and scatters enough light into the room to unveil tiny particles of dustbillowing in the air. I cough onto my shoulder, step back from the window, and turn to find Luna right where I left her.
She studies the room as if mapping the exits, locating hiding spots, searching for sinister intent, all while sweet snowy skin glows with warmth from the lantern. Always observant. Almost calculating. And even more stunning—more so now that I know she’s unaware of it.
Time stretches without either of us saying anything. No one rushes to move. She’s closest to the door, and the house is black. She could hide from me if she wanted.
Her eyes finally draw to me as I walk to her with a towel securely wrapped around my waist. She backs up when I near but then chooses to root herself to the floor.
I settle in front of her, my face loosened into a blank mask while hers displays everything. Scrutiny. Distrust. Trying in vain to read my next move before I make it.
Her eyes close as I reach for her face and brush my thumb along the soft pink of her cheek. Wet hair drapes my hand, and instead of moving it, I let the white curtain shield her. For now.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Luna.” I step closer until the knot of my towel touches her stomach.
Her breath shakes as she opens her eyes. There’s something in the crystal that I don’t quite read until disgust thickens her voice. “I’m sure you’ve said that to all the women you’ve kidnapped and raped.”
My breath hitches. She flinches while my thumb carves a harsh path down her jaw.
I ease the pressure, force a smile, pretend her accusal iscuteinstead of grossly inaccurate. “I’ve never kidnapped a woman in my life… I’ve certainly never raped one.”
She puffs her derision, pink lips parting, sharp breath flicking my chin—no ideaof the mistake she’s just made.
I amnota violent man.
But Iaman educator. A developer. A realist who understands that pain is often the best teacher for the hardest lessons.
And from no fault of her own (the media has told her what to believe), Luna is in dire need of an education. Specifically, the difference between a monster and a man.
“I understand you think you know me, beautiful, but you don’t. Not everything you’ve heard about me is true.”
Her eyes narrow as she steps away from my touch. I let her. “You watched me nearly suffocate just hours ago.Right now, you plan on raping me. I don’t need someone to tell me who you are. You’ve shown me.”
My hand lowers to my side while my eyes flick to the door, the training room waiting on the other side of the hall.
“I wouldn’t have let you die, even by your own hand. I told you what would happen if you didn’t stay still. As soon as you passed out, I would’ve released you.”
“Oh so you could?—”
“And as forrapingyou… That’s ridiculous. Don’t gamble if you aren’t willing to lose.”
Her jaw hangs while she searches for her next snide remark.
“But it’s okay.” I take a step toward her. Her shoulders slump as she watches me, slowly retreating. “I’m a forgiving person… I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”
