But I know he lied to me. And I can’t let it go. The nagging thought won’t let me sleep. He fucking lied to me. I put it all out there, allowed myself to be raw and vulnerable. My imperfect, broken, bitchy self. And he lied to my face. The worst part is that I’m sure it had to do with my sister.

That’s what hurts the most.

Every minute that passed after seeing that look on his face when he lied, every minute I thought of how I could get it out of him. How I needed to get it out of him. How I was failing Jenny by letting it happen. How I was failing myself.

I’m careful as I slip off the sheet. I haven’t slept at all, but he has. His breathing is even, and I listen to it as I gently climb out of the bed. My body is motionless when I stand up, listening to his inhales and exhales.

I already have my excuse ready in case he wakes. I never got that Advil, after all.

Every footstep is gentle as I move to the dresser, opening a drawer as silently as I can. The first drawer proves useless and as I shut it, Jase breathes in deeper, the pace of his breathing changing. I stand as still as I can, holding my own breath and praying he falls back asleep.

And he does. That steady, even breathing comes back.

With the rush of adrenaline fueling me, I move to his nightstand quietly, slowly, wondering if I’ve lost my fucking mind. I’m so close to him that he could reach out and grab me if he woke up. I watch his chest rise and fall as I open the drawer. The sound of it opening is soft, but noticeable. All the while, Jase sleeps.

I watch his chest for a steady rhythm; I watch his eyes for any movement. He’s knocked the hell out.

The faint light from the room is enough to reflect off the metal of the set of cuffs. I only have two, but if I can get one wrapped around his wrist and linked to the bed, I’ll have him where I need him.

Trapped, until he tells me the fucking truth.

I almost shut the drawer, almost, but then I realize he would be able to reach it, and nestled inside are both a gun and a knife.

The metal gleams in the night and I carefully pick up both weapons and move them to the top of the dresser on the other side of the room, away from his reach.

Thump. Thump. The heat of uneasiness creeps along my skin. My own breathing intensifies, my hands shake slightly and the metal of the handcuffs clinks in the quiet night.

Freezing where I am on the other side of the bed, I wait. And wait. Watching him carefully. If he woke up right now, I don’t even know what he’d do to me.

But it’s better to suffer that consequence than to accept him lying straight to my face, all the while, I fall for him … him and his lies.

It’s what my mother did. She accepted my father’s lies. And it left her a lonely woman. I won’t be with a liar. I don’t care about any debt or any other bullshit reason. I can’t trust a liar.

I don’t realize how angry I’ve become, not until Jase rolls over slightly in bed and my heart leaps up my throat.

The thought runs through my mind not to do it. That I’m out of my element and this world is more dangerous than I can handle. This isn’t the person I am.

But he lied to me. …About Jenny.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I creep back up onto the bed and close one of the cuffs around an iron post of Jase’s bed. There are four metal posts that surround his bed. The soft clink of the locks goes by slowly, clink, clink, clink and I swear he’ll hear it, but his chest rises and falls evenly while he shows no signs of waking.

As I lean closer to him, closer to the other side, and ready to slip the other cuff through the post on that side of him, I gaze down at his face. In his sleep, he’s still a man of power. But even with his strong stubbled jaw, there’s a peacefulness I haven’t seen.

He’s only a man.

It fucking hurts to look at him. When someone can hurt you, it means you care. I have lived my life making sure not to care, so that I won’t be hurt. And yet, Jase Cross pushed his way in, only to lie to me.

It solidifies my decision. I’ll be damned either way.

Clink, clink, clink. With both handcuffs in place, I know securing the one on the left to his wrist will be easy. His wrist is close to the first cuff already. I’m sure he’ll wake and then I’ll be fucked, but I have to try. I’ll have him where I want him.

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