Page 98 of Ghost Hunted
He downs one glass, then the other one. “No cage. See? I’m not that much of an asshole.”
I edge back, crossing my arms. “Yeah, that was fucked up. I know I was violent, but you didn’t need to lock me in a literal cage. You could’ve just handcuffed me.”
“Yeah, clearly, that wasn’t working out so well. Besides, you looked so sexy in that cage.” He grins. “I asked my human cage guy to build another one in Devil Tower.”
“Logan!” I bolt up so fast I nearly knock over the table of raw oysters topped with caviar the stewardess just rolled out.
“Relax and have an oyster,” he drawls.
“No. Ugh! No. That’s disgusting. And you are not locking me in a cage in Astley.”
“How can you know it’s disgusting if you don’t try?”
I gag. “I can’t believe you of all people eat that rich person shit.”
“Well, I’m rich.” He stands up slowly, a smirk playing on his lips as he corners me against the opposite wall. “I’m very fucking rich, Lia. You’re going to find that out pretty soon.”
“Really?” I let him wrap his arms around me and pull me back down so I’m sitting once more on his lap. “How did that happen? When did that happen?”
“I mean, I always did well for myself, didn’t I? I was already pretty important back when...”
“When you kidnapped me,” I finish, the memory as always bittersweet. But I choose to look at it positively now. And that’s definitely how he remembers it, given the stupid grin on his face.
“Maybe, but you weren’t a big businessman in a suit. When did you get so stuffy, huh?”
His grin deepens. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself stuffy, but I guess my guns have been collecting cobwebs. Though I’ve been giving them a good workout lately.”
“Hmm.” I ignore the subtext, or maybe I just don’t mind it so much. “So how much money exactly do you have? The kind that would buy me a fancy designer bag?”
He trails a finger over my jawline. “I guess my money could do that, if I wanted it to.”
“And the nicest place in Oakley, too?”
“My, my, look how spoiled my baby is.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “No more Oakley for you, baby. I’ll be keeping you in the nicest place in Astley instead.”
“Astley?” I gape at him. “That’s where you live now? The most bougie town in the state?”
He chuckles. “I own a private plane, Lia. What did you think?”
“I didn’t... well... I didn’t know this was your plane. I thought it was like in the old days, when Carmelo...” I bite down on the name that makes a whole lot of dark memories surge forward. “When people lent you stuff,” I say instead.
“No one lends me anything anymore. I’m my own boss. I’m your boss, too.”
“Uh huh.” I roll my eyes. “So, boss, how exactly are you planning to take care of me? Gonna take me shopping? Buy me stuff at all the luxury boutiques?” I wrinkle my nose, but it doesn’t sound so bad. Years of being my father’s prisoner haven’t made me forget how he used to spoil me as a child.
“Fuck no,” he grins. “No luxury shit for you. Unless you count the luxury cage I’ll be keeping you in, in the nicest place in Astley.”
“Stop that.” I huff out an exasperated breath, but his words make me nervous. I have no idea if he’s in jest. I do trust him—I trust him enough to tell me the truth. Even when it’s the kind of truth I don’t want to hear.
“It won’t be all the time,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. “I know I told you I’d try my best not to lock you in a cage anymore, but I just don’t see my way around it. It’ll only be when I can’t be there to look after you, though. I do have to deal with business shit, every so often. I travel a lot, and it’s not always convenient to take you with me.”
A panicky knot forms in my stomach. “No, Logan. No, I don’t want that.”
“It won’t be very often,” he promises. “Just a few days a month, maybe. The days when I can’t look after you, I mean. The rest of the time, it’ll just be because you look so damn fine behind bars, baby.”
I shake my head and stand up, trying to escape him, but he pins me to the wall again, his arms on either side of me. I close my eyes, letting him kiss me but not returning his affection.
“Red.”
