She looked up at Ken to see him still staring at her. She shuffled back, as if to remind him of their position. Ken must have taken the hint, because he awkwardly backed off.

They were both reminded that they barely knew each other.

They had each opened up a window to each other, and Nicky knew they'd regret it in the morning.

"Well... goodnight," Nicky said.

Ken stood up, wiped his palms on his pants. "Get some sleep, Lyons. You need it."

Nicky rested her head against the pillow.

He was right. She did need sleep.

She needed to be in her right mind to catch the kidnapper. And tomorrow, Nicky wouldn't waste any time.

Whoever is doing this should be scared, Nicky thought.

Because she was coming for him. And she would take him down.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

He had given her a bed. A dresser. A vanity with a mirror and a brush so she could do her hair and look pretty for him. He had given her everything a woman could ever ask for.

The screen illuminated the dark room, giving him a full view of his bride on the other side. She was sitting at the edge of the bed, her hands clenched into fists and her eyes tightly closed. She was crying bitterly, her tears flowing like a waterfall down her face. She was crying for a freedom that he'd taken from her. It was as if he had ripped her heart out and stomped on it, crushing it beneath his feet.

He hoped once they wed, she would be more grateful for all he'd given her. She could not leave the bedroom--of course not, he knew she would run. He smiled at the screen and leaned closer. He didn't interact with her much when she was awake; their beautiful conversations would be saved for when they were officially married.

Soon, she would give up on her pacing and crying and go to bed. Then, he would get to smell her, touch her, feel her...

He watched the screen as she got under the covers and turned off the lamp. He rose from his chair and left his room, making his way down the hallway to hers. In the darkness of the hallway, he could barely make out the line where the carpet ended, and the hardwood floor began. The floor was cool underneath his bare feet. He could hear the sound of her breathing in his mind, slow and steady and deep. It was like a lullaby. He wanted to hear her breaths for real.

He reached her door. Several locks kept her in, and he unlatched them, one by one.

Inside, the room was dark. The only window was at the top of the room, and it allowed a silvery beam of moonlight to sneak in and illuminate her sleeping form. She was so beautiful.