Page 20 of King of Wrath

“Turned it into a gym…” I repeat, like that’s a valid reason for needing to sleep in a room with a complete stranger. “But…”

“Nia,” he turns back to me and then pushes up on one elbow. With the moonlight shining through, I can see his rippling muscles, the breadth of his shoulders almost intimidating. And so freakin’ hot. Why can’t I stop noticing how well put together he is? “I can’t have you trying to hurt yourself again.”

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. How did he know? “I wasn’t going to hurt myself.”

“Really? It looked like you were contemplating?—”

“I was contemplating stabbing you,” I huff back, not wanting to share the truth. That I know this is likely to end poorly for me and I thought to just get it over with. “If I’d done it, I’d be sleeping alone right now.”

He gives me that grin. The one that only lifts one side of his mouth but is sexy as hell and makes my toes curl into the mattress. Like he likes my smart-ass mouth instead of being annoyed by it. “I’m glad to hear you wouldn’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. You’re far too interesting to leave this world.”

I stare at him for several seconds. When has anyone found me interesting? Granted, my world is tiny, and I’ve never really fit in it. Not since my mom died. I’ve been completely closed off, but then again, I might have said more to him tonight than I’ve said to anyone for a very long time.

At first, my extended family was worried about my change in personality. They’d say she’s grieving her mother. She’s scared.

Then, they just accepted the new me. No one even noticed I didn’t have friends. Not real ones.

My friends now are really Jess’s friends, and they all have far more in common with her than they do with me. I don’t date. I don’t go out.

I know it’s bad when the kidnapper’s compliments are puffing me up, making me feel special. And I’m sharing with him like I haven’ttalked to anyone in years. What is up with that? Then again, we have been forced into a tiny space together. “I’m interesting?”

I curse myself for asking. Trusting him, opening up to him, makes me so vulnerable, I should have just slit my wrist with that knife. Toni will do way worse to me if he thinks I’ve betrayed him.

Jake lays back down, lacing his hands behind his head and my mouth goes dry. He’s sexy as hell just meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror but like this…

I have this insane urge to climb on top of him. Jesus. I’m losing it.

“Beautiful. Smart. Fantastic singer. A bit of fight. I like that.”

My cheeks heat. God, why do compliments from him make me blush? “You like my singing?”

God, I’m pathetic. But even with my plan to earn money with my voice, I’ve never really shared my singing with anyone.

“Sultry and deep. Your voice is magic.” He says matter-of-factly, like he isn’t sharing the one compliment I’ve truly been desperate to hear.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

He turns his head toward me, the intensity of his stare making the hair on the back of my neck stand again. I still don’t know if he scares or excites me. Both, I guess. “You can tell me anything.”

“I did try to hurt myself once.” Why the hell am I telling him this? But that crack I mentioned earlier. The one forming in my hard shell, is growing bigger.

I lick my lips, tasting the words out loud. Is it dangerous to share? My mouth aches at the idea of not sharing the words. And I can’t see what it will hurt. It was years ago now…

I see his mouth press into a hard line. “You did?”

I’ve never told anyone. Maybe I just never had anyone to tell. “After my mom died, the world felt…flat.”

I don’t tell him that my attempt was after one of Toni’s first beatings. I know this is my family’s enemy. And as much as I hate my father, I’m not going to actually betray him. Like I mentioned. It’s worse than suicide.

“Flat?”

“Like nothing mattered. Especially not me,” my voice has dropped to a whisper, and I shiver to remember those feelings. “I was so numb, and I just wanted it to end.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Six years,” I answer, snuggling deeper into the covers, as I pull them up to my chin.

“So you were fourteen.”