“Are you completely insane?” I cough and wheeze. His shoulder presses against my diaphragm, and it’s hard to breathe.

“Yep. I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen even if I have to tie you up.” It takes all my strength not to drop my handbag while he walks us into the posh lobby and over to the elevators.

“Jett, put me down. I’ll come with you. People are looking,” I choke out, but he ignores me.

The elevator doors open, and he steps in. This is surreal. This can’t be happening. I can’t be alone with him.

“Sorry, on our honeymoon,” he says to a woman in the corner.

All I can see are her toes.

“Oh, well, congratulations.” She giggles and I bite my bottom lip again.

I should say I’m being kidnapped. Throw his ass in jail.

Instead, I stay quiet, saving my strength because I’m not the same girl who worshipped him. He killed that girl when he fucked my mother and that other skank.

Now I hate him.

Chapter Thirty-Two

JETT

So much for patience. In my defense, she’s making a scene, and we need an opportunity to talk.

Right, Jett, so you tossed her over your shoulder?

Using the key card, I unlock the door to the room I reserved as soon as I saw Raven and her friend heading toward the pool.

Probably better I’m taking her away because if that fucking punk from last night shows up, things will get ugly. Almost beat the shit out of the guy, but thankfully she left, and the loser ended up taking another woman home.

I set her down on the king-size bed and look around. In an instant, she jumps up.

“How dare you,” she seethes, flinging her purse onto the bed. Her hair is wild, spilling around both shoulders, her face flushed from being carried over my shoulder. My cock, which was already aching, starts to leak. Turning, I open the minibar for a bottle of something—any liquor will do.

“Cocktail? And we both know I dare anything,” I say dryly, grabbing two bottles of vodka and moving to the glass window overlooking the ocean. She doesn’t need to mix liquor, and I don’t need tequila making me crazy.

“I have nothing to say to you, so no, I don’t want a cocktail.”

“Well, I have a lot I need to say to you.” I turn to look at her, and my fucking heart aches. This irrational need to keep her makes me unscrew the lid of the vodka and down it in two swigs, tossing it in the trash can.

“Why? What can you possibly think will ever change the fact that I saw you?” she shouts, her beautiful sapphire eyes glistening with tears as she looks up at the ceiling.