Page 49 of Cruel Proposal
He nods, putting the book he was reading to the side and kicking his feet up on the ottoman in front of the plush reading chair. "Couldn't feel anything. Had one of those moments where I thought it was going to be a fart. It wasn't. Shit my pants at my cousin's wedding."
My laughter gets louder, tears forming in my eyes as I shake my head. "There's no way you did that."
"The photographer got a picture of the look on my face when it happened."
I wipe the tears from my cheeks. "If I'm going to die, my last request is to see that picture."
"I'll do you one better." He pulls out his phone, tapping away before turning it to me. "You're not about to die, for what it's worth. I think the boss likes you more than he wants to admit, even though you are young enough to be his daughter."
Well, that's not the mental image I want when I'm thinking about sleeping with him.
"Why are you showing me this, then?"
He hands over the phone. "Because you looked like you were on your way to a panic attack."
I take one look at the photo, at the look of horror in his eyes and the people around him gagging, and I lose it. I double over laughing, handing the phone back to him.
By the time I finally manage to collect myself, my sides hurt from laughing so hard.
He smiles and picks up his book again, but he still doesn't open it. "You don't have to worry so much about what's going to happen. The boss would've killed you by now if he wanted to."
"There are things worse than death." I go to the window, looking out over the yard as the sun starts to set. "He sold me to what was going to be worse than death. Who is Robert?"
The door opens before Hector has a chance to answer me.
Noah steps inside, and Hector leaves, taking the book with him. Not bothering to shut the door, Noah crosses the room and falls back on the bed, scrubbing his hands down his face.
I glance between him and the open door.
I should go. He's not guarding it, and since Hector was sitting with me and I killed two people the last time I took off, I doubt Noah has people in the house right now.
I could get to the garage again and steal another car.
But I can't make my feet move, not when he throws his arm over his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily.
Maybe it's the part of me that feels the need to stuff down my own shit in favor of other people hurting, but I move closer to him.
"You good?" I hover at the edge of the bed, looking down at him. "I've been told I'm a good listener if you want to talk. I mean, Iknow there's a lot you won't talk about with me, but you could, considering you're going to kill me."
The corner of his mouth twitches. "That would be perfect, wouldn't it? Vent all the shit in my life to you and then not have to worry about anything else. You'd be dead and all my secrets would go to the grave."
A chill runs down my spine.
I think Hector's wrong about thinking Noah isn't going to kill me. I don't think there's any way of knowing what Noah is and isn't going to do. I think I'd be an idiot to underestimate him.
Still, I sit on the edge of the bed. "Well, I guess you have your answer, then. I'm a great listener, and you're going to kill me, so it doesn't matter what you say to me."
"And this wouldn't be some attempt from you to get information for your family?" He lifts his arm off his eyes, suspicion in them as his gaze meets mine. "Because I know what you're like, and if you think for one second that I would trust you, you're wrong."
"Not saying you have to trust me."
"I've got enough problems without having to worry about you."
"You could let me go, and then you wouldn't have to worry about me." I fall back onto the bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling.
My fingers brush against his when his arm drops down between us. For a second, I consider taking his hand and lacing my fingers through his, focusing on his pain instead of my own.
It'd be easier than sitting here alone in the room all day and having nothing else to think about.
