“I left you fucking aroused as hell.”

“That part I’m not thrilled about, but the rest of it…”

“Sweetheart,” I said, pulling her to me so our mouths hovered close together, “then don’t piss me off again.”

Her breath escaped in a moist whisper against my lips. “Why are we sitting on the floor?”

“Give me your ankle, baby.”

“Why?”

“Don’t question or argue. Just do it.”

She scooted her butt and rested her foot in my lap. I pulled the shackle from underneath the bed, and she tried yanking away, but I held firm and locked the metal around her ankle.

“What’s that for?” Her voice shook, and she glanced around us, eyes wide.

“To keep you safe.” I jumped to my feet and headed toward the bathroom. The chain slid along the floor as she followed, and my fucking cock wanted out to play.

Damn. Chaining her up was a turn-on.

Before she could enter behind me, I slammed the door and locked it. Her fists pounded on the wood, her voice high-pitched with frantic questions. I ignored them, and for the moment, I ignored her.

Taking stock of the bathroom, I began by studying the mirror. If she broke it, she might try to slit her wrists like she had in that cabin, when Zach had taken her.

I shook my head, letting out a long breath. I didn’t think she’d do it. She loved me, was happy here with me, but something had set her off last night. I didn’t want to chance her doing something stupid while Jax and I were gone. I grabbed the plunger, turned it around, and used the handle to break the mirror. The pieces fell into the sink, and a few chunks dropped to the floor.

The pounding on the door grew in intensity.

Grabbing the wastebasket, I carefully picked up the glass and tossed the pieces into the trash. Next, I searched the medicine cabinet and drawers for anything she could use against herself. The razors went the way of the mirror. The tub was the only danger left, but I couldn’t see her drowning herself. She was too terrified of water. Besides, I didn’t think she was suicidal, just unpredictable when it came to coping.

Satisfied the bathroom was safe, I unlocked the door, yanked it open, and squeezed past her. She pitter-pattered after me, on my heels as I carried the trashcan toward the hall.

“Please don’t go,” she said. “I need you. Let’s just run away and leave this place.”

The chain stopped her from pursuing me, and she let out a curse. I entered the kitchen and dumped the glass and razors into the trash. Jax raised a brow, one corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk. A cup of coffee steamed between his hands. “I knew your badass self was still in there somewhere.”