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“You learn fast.”
His phone starts to ring.
There’s reception in this fortress! That’s a good sign. If I can get to a computer, maybe I could… who would I ask for help?
Bre8kMe pops into my head. It’s been months since I chatted with him. I shouldn’t have let that bridge burn.
“I can walk if you need to get that,” I mumble as his phone rings again. He looks irritated, but not at me—at the interruption.
He ignores it and keeps carrying me inside. We pass through the door, and he pauses at a small end table. An ugly, twisted metal sculpture sits on it. Balancing me in one arm, he unzips his pocket, pulls out his phone, and sets it on the table.
We return to the sitting room. Someone’s already cleared away the food. He sets me on the sofa near the fire, then kneels so his blue eyes meet mine.
My heart stutters.
“Let’s try this again, Rylan.” He stands and takes the seat across from me.
I glance down the hall. “Why did you do that? Leave your phone outside?”
He rakes a hand through his hair, and for the first time I really notice it—dark chocolate waves, cut short but still thick and silky. I slip my hands under my thighs to stop the tingling need to touch him.
“Because I want to talk to you. I don’t care what’s happening outside these walls. I want to know what’s happening inside your head.”
CHAPTER 10
Rylan
Ican’t say why seeing Steffen leave his phone outside rattled me so much. But it did.
Who leaves their phone nowadays?
No one. The person in front of you is not as important as your phone.
Yet, Steffen, this odd, strange man, chose me over—everything.
A floodgate opens inside my heart; the walls of my mind lower. I feel exposed, yet oddly safe. I made it. I survived the storm of my life and found shelter—okay, so maybe the shelter came to me in the form of Steffen. Like any solo-survivor we fight, refuse help at first. It’s time to accept that trading is necessary. I want to hear what Steffen has to say. I want to know who he is and why I matter to him.
I can feel the pressure on his shoulders, feel the truth that there are people hunting me. Hunting him.
Shit. Am I actually going to trust my captor, my savior—whatever he is?
Yeah, I am.
I look down at my clothes, wishing I took the time to not resemble the mess of my current situation.
What if Steffen said, ‘To heck with it, Rylan isn’t worth the trouble’? What if I’m a used car left behind again?
Steffen glances at the fire; orange flickers in his sky-blue eyes. He leans back into the couch, but his spine stays taut, his whole body angled toward the door.
“I’ll start at the beginning,” Steffen says. Those sharp eyes turn their attention on me.
The entire side of his face glows as the warming light of the fire illuminates it. He’s the devil himself sitting on a throne of heat, information, and seduction. He’s judging in a caring way that has me crossing my arms so he can’t see my weakness.
I’ve never been one to admire people, but I can’t stop looking at Steffen. The sharp curve of his jaw, even his neck, is sexy. His neck!
Who looks at a neck and thinks, Yes, you turn me on?
A sly smile tugs at his lips. “I like when you do that,” he murmurs, rubbing his jaw.
