Page 170 of I Will Break You
I turn to her and smirk. “It’s where I keep my clothes.”
She slides off the bed, pushes past me, and flings open the closet door. Her squawk of outrage loosens a band of tension I’ve held around my chest since the moment I heard her getting attacked.
Grabbing the dildo from her nightstand, I follow Amethyst to find her gaping at the right side of her closet space, which is now filled with my shirts, pants, shoes, jackets, and a bunch of items suitable for a gentleman about town who’s just escaped Death Row.
“What have you done with my stuff?” she screeches as I set down the toy on her mirrored dressing table.
“I sorted through the items I didn’t like and put them in boxes.”
She whirls around, her eyes flashing. “You don’t have the right to touch my things.”
I raise a brow, daring her to elaborate, but she glances away and pouts.
That’s what I thought.
“Where are they?” she mutters.
“Cupboard under the stairs.”
Her jaw drops. “With those men?”
I place my hands on her shoulders. “In storage boxes set on shelves three feet above ground. They’ll be perfectly safe. These crawlspaces don’t flood.”
She walks along her side of the closet, pulling open drawers. “Where are my costumes? And all my heels?”
“You won’t need them while you’re training.”
“Fuck this.” She rushes to the other side of the closet and yanks one of my jackets off its hanger. “You can’t come into my life and turn it upside down?—”
I grab her by the neck, making her flinch.
“When will you understand? The life you thought you had is over.”
Her eyes widen, and her lips part with a gasp.
“Someone powerful sent five men after you. Five.” I punctuate the word with a gentle shake. “Your enemy is powerful and has guards more skilled than the assholes in the basement.”
“Let go of me,” she says through clenched teeth.
“Not until you explain, in your own words, what’s happening to you.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and jerks her head to the side, refusing to acknowledge the harsh truth. A tear rolls down her cheek, and it takes every effort not to trace the line of water with my tongue.
Amethyst needs to break through the delusion that I’m the biggest threat to her life and recognize she’s in serious danger.
“Amethyst,” I bark.
Her eyes snap open.
“Tell. Me. Why. I’m. Here.”
“To ruin my life.”
“Wrong answer.”
“For revenge.”
I pause. She’s not wrong. I did, after all, convert her crawlspace into a lair to terrorize her for retribution and sexual gratification, but she needs to understand I no longer hold a grudge. She’s mine, and I take care of my possessions.