Page 8 of Empress of Ruin
“Third, once we get in the car, you will follow my instructions down to the letter. Agreed?”
I’m going to run the first chance I get.He has to know that. “Agreed.”
“Good.” He releases my ass immediately, but gradually eases the pressure on the back of my neck. His hand slides into my hair, and he uses it to pull me upright. I scramble to right my sweats and panties, and his chest rumbles with a chuckle of amusement.
“My god, I’ve missed you.” He sounds wistful. “And you have not disappointed me. I so look forward to getting reacquainted with you—every part of you.”
I don’t respond. What is there to say? I could scream that I hate him, but he’ll only bend me over and finish what he started. My best option now is silence.
“Come.” He tugs on my hair, and I scramble to my feet. His hand travels a path from my hair to the side of my neck, over my shoulder, and down the length of my arm, until his fingers curl over mine. I swallow hard, trying not to tremble. I glue my gaze to the ground.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening—
Except it is. I don’t know how he found me. I wasso careful. Identities, tickets, shying away from cameras—everything. There should be no way for him to have gotten to me, but he did. Here he is, and here I am.
His free hand rises, and I flinch. Instead of having the decency to back off, he takes my chin in a gentle hold and tips my head up. “Look at me.”
I reluctantly meet his eyes. He’s smiling softly, almost nostalgically. “You’ve been very bad these last months, but it doesn’t change anything. My plans have largely remained the same.” He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “I’ll let you in on them if you prove yourself to be a very good girl.”
“I fucking hate you.” The admission is torn from my lips on an angry whisper. He tilts his head to the side, examining my expression.
“I don’t believe you do,” he murmurs. “But I suppose that’s subject to interpretation. Come, now. I think it’s time to go.”
Chapter Four
Lyra
Locke waits for us at the gates. He watches my approach with a blank expression, though if I’m not mistaken, I think I might detect a hint ofrelief.
I can’t help but wonder what Killian’s been like in my absence. He was always insufferable when we were together; how much more insufferable did he become? Was his temperament significantly worse?
Being back in Killian’s orbit is surreal. The fog of the cemetery clings to me, invading my head and hazing over my thoughts as Locke opens the back door of an SUV idling on the curb. Killian moves his hand from mine to the small of my back, and the gesture makes me jump.
Getting in the car means making a major concession. Granted, it’s preferable to getting punished in a graveyard, but… this is me accepting my fate.
I don’twantto accept my fate, but I amso fucking tiredof running. Maybe I can convince Killian to kill me quickly. Or maybe, just maybe, I can get away again.
Will I even have the opportunity to get away if I get into the car? I know Killian well enough to know he won’t make it easy. But then… his fatal flaw was always underestimating me. Would he make the same mistake twice?
"Get your ass in the car." Killian’s tone is mild, but the threat is clear:or else.Get your ass in the car, or else things are about to get much, much worse for me.
“Killian…” I trail off, unsure what I can possibly say to deter him.
“Now.”
I get in the car. The seats are smooth leather, so buttery I can feel them even through my clothes. I almost forgot the level of luxury Killian surrounds himself with—it’s never anything but the best.
He follows after me, settling himself.
I scoot to the far side of the backseat, putting as much distance between us as possible. My breaths are quick, my heart rate is quicker, and I feel like I’m on the verge of passing out.
“Shall we talk first?” Killian removes his jacket and tosses it carelessly on the floor. Locke gets into the front seat, and the screen partition separating us slowly starts to rise. I fold my hands to stop them from trembling.
“I don’t have any particular wish to talk to you.” I mean for the words to come out strong, but the tremble in my voice undermines that.
“Very well.” Killian scoots into the center seat,fartoo close for comfort. “Over my lap.”
“Excuse me?”
