Vigil (11 page)

“No,” I said. “It’s not about that.” He made it sound sordid, like I was only gunning for fame or something. He didn’t understand that this was my passion.

“Is that what you meant when you said it was personal?” he asked. “You were talking about your fucking career?”

“
No
.” I bit the words out. “You don’t get to talk about that.”

He was quiet.

I pulled in a shaky breath. He’d really gotten under my skin. I hated him even more than I had before. He was nothing like this when he was wearing his costume.

He went back to the table. He picked up a piece of toast and began eating it.

I stayed where I was. Like hell was I going to sit back down with him.

“I didn’t think you’d be like this,” he said, and he sounded confused and vulnerable, like a lost little boy.

And that made me hate him even more. “Like what, exactly?”

He caught my gaze with his own. “I don’t understand why you seem to hate me so much. You didn’t hate me before.”

I looked at my feet. “You’re holding me captive, that’s why.”

“No, I’m holding you here because you hate me. If you and I could just… I don’t know. It seemed like… before, there was something… between us. And now—”

“You’re not what I thought you were,” I said. “You’re some rich boy playing a game. You’re completely cut off from reality in this mansion, with your servants and your balconies and your gardens, and you—”

“I’m not,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

“Well, maybe I have to be. No matter where I go, I’m Callum Rutherford. That never goes away. By virtue of who and what I am, I have to be cut off from everyone else. But I can put on that mask, and when I’m out there on the street, there’s no separation anymore. I’m as much part of the city as the criminals. And I’m doing something. Saving lives. And you want to take it all away from me.”

I took a step away from him. “Running around in a mask and trying to fight Barclay is crazy. It can’t possibly be a healthy thing to do. You
should
stop.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I won’t let you take it from me.” He got up from the table and walked back into my room.

I went after him. “You have to let me out of here. You can’t keep me locked in this room forever.”

“Watch me,” he said.

I leaped on him, onto his back. I clawed at his face. “Let me go!”

He snatched me off of his body like he was plucking away an annoying insect. He threw me down on the bed. “I wish you’d never found out.”

“I bet you do. I’m going to publish that story. You’re going to pay for keeping me here.”

He shook his head. “Who are you? I thought I knew you, but you’re nothing like the girl I thought I knew.”

“You’re the one who’s different,” I said.

He left the room, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

This time, I was too angry to cry.

* * *

I waited until dark to try my escape over the balcony, which meant I had to entertain myself in my plush prison for the rest of the day. I saw no one except Nolan, who came back to clear away breakfast, and then later to bring me lunch and dinner.

There was a television, and it got more channels than I even knew existed. I’d only had the basic cable package for a long time. I ended up watching HBO and Showtime the whole day.

And the food that Nolan brought me?

Well, it was really good.

So, it wasn’t exactly the worst day of my life.

But it wasn’t about how cushy it was locked up here. It was the principle of the thing. I wasn’t free. I was stuck.

Anyway, it was summer, so the sun didn’t go down until around 9:00 PM, and I waited another good hour and a half just to make sure that it was dark enough that I wouldn’t be seen.

Then I crept out onto the balcony.

The night air was warm and muggy. It was cooler here than it would have been at my apartment in the city, because I was surrounded by the cool gardens of the Rutherford estate, not by sweltering pavement. Even so, beads of sweat burst out under my arms and at the back of my neck. I was only going to get sweatier as I climbed.

I ducked back into my room, went into the bathroom, and managed to find a hair tie. I pulled my hair into a tight, but sloppy ponytail at the top of my head.

Then I went back out to the balcony.

I peered down over the edge to the balcony below.

Shit. That was kind of far down.

But I could do this.

I took a deep breath.

And I swung one leg over the railing.

I gripped the railing tightly with both hands, but my palms started to sweat.

One at a time, I let go and wiped each hand on my pants.

I swung the other leg over.

Now I was clinging to the railing and dangling off the balcony. There was nothing between me and the ground except air.

I looked down, trying to gauge how tough it was going to be to get to the next balcony.

The view down to the ground was dizzyingly far. My insides turned over, thrills of fear going through me.

I forced myself to take deep breaths. I could do this.

The best thing to do would be to grab hold of the bottom of the balcony. Then I could dangle beneath it, and it would only be a short drop onto the balcony below.

Carefully, I moved one hand down from the railing.

It became clear to me that I wasn’t going to be able to do this slow and easy.

I grabbed hold and moved my other hand in one quick motion, letting my feet fall.

And I was falling, the ground rushing up—

Until I caught myself, holding on.

I dangled, just like I had wanted.

My heart was pounding away like a brass band.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay. You’re fine. Now you just have to let go.”

Right, let go and land on the balcony below me. It would be fine. I could do it.

I looked down.

But what if I missed the balcony? What if I fell all the way to the ground from here? I’d survive, I was fairly sure, but I thought I might break some bones.

Shit.

Still, I didn’t think I could haul myself up back up to where I’d started. I’d reached the point of no return, and I had to let go. I had to.

I didn’t let go.

My arms were starting to ache from holding my weight.

Shit.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Why had I thought this was a great idea?

There was a whooshing sound. Something dark moved through the air right next to me.

Startled, I lost my grip.

I was falling for real, now, hurtling off the side of the building, and I didn’t know if I was going to land on the balcony or no—

Strong arms caught me.

Vigil was swinging from a cord. He held me close to him.

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved and grateful to him for saving me from falling or angry with him for thwarting my escape attempt.

He chuckled low in my ear. “Going somewhere, Cecily?”

“Not anymore,” I said. “Not thanks to you.”

He still seemed amused. “I see I’m going to have to move you to a room that doesn’t have a balcony, aren’t I?”

“You jackass,” I said, my anger surging.

He swung us back up over my old balcony and deposited me on firm ground.

Despite my anger, it felt good to be safe and sound.

He let go of me, and I took a slow, steadying breath.

“Seriously, that was incredibly stupid,” he said. “You could have hurt yourself very badly.”

“Well, I didn’t have a choice. You’re keeping me here against my will.” But it was weird looking at him. He looked good to me, the way he always did. I would have thought that now, after everything, I wouldn’t be attracted to him, but apparently, my lady parts didn’t care that he was a psycho kidnapper.

He let out a frustrated breath. “God damn it, Cecily.”

What was he complaining about now?

He grabbed me around the waist and tugged me firmly against him.

“What are you doing?” I meant it to sound angry and self-righteous, but the bottom had gone out of my voice and it sounded breathy and excited. “Let go of me.”

He kissed me.

His lips were sweet, and I found myself running my hands over his chest, sighing into his mouth, losing myself at his touch.

He groaned low in his throat. “Why do you
do
this to me?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Vigil picked me up, one hand below my ass to support me, one hand on my back to balance. He crushed me against him and claimed my mouth, kissing me furiously.

I was putty in his arms, surrendering to him completely, much to my own chagrin.

He carried me across the balcony and deposited me on the table.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, sliding searching fingers over the swell of his upper arms and shoulders. He was huge, hot, and hard, and I didn’t seem to be able to keep my hands off of him.

He tugged at the edge of my shirt. “I want you topless,” he hissed. “I want to look at you.”

I helped him take my shirt off. Then I leaned back, propping myself up with my arms, putting my breasts on display.

He tossed my shirt carelessly aside, sucking in breath as he took me in. He slid his fingers under the straps of my bra. “I thought this would look good on you.”

I was stunned. “You picked out lingerie for me?”

He pulled the straps off my shoulders, kissing my shoulder, my collarbone.

“That reminds me. How the hell did you know all my sizes?”

He reached behind me and unclasped the bra. “I had Nolan hack your Victoria Secret account.”

“Nolan can do that?”

He pulled the bra away from my skin. “You really want to keep talking about Nolan?”

I started to say something, but I stopped. I was struck by the hungry look in his eyes as he gazed at me. I didn’t think anyone had ever looked at me quite like that. Half of his face was covered in a mask, but he still managed to be so expressive with simply his eyes and his mouth. It took my breath away.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

I bit down on my lip. I tightened my thighs around his waist.

He weighed my breasts in his gloved hands. “The things I want to do you, Cecily.”

Muscles deep inside me clenched. “Do them,” I ordered.

He chuckled. He rubbed thumbs over my nipples.

They stiffened into hard peaks. Pleasure thrummed through me.

“You’re not going to write an article about my identity.”

“The hell I’m not,” I gasped.

He began to rub my nipples slowly and gently. “You’re not.”

I moaned. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I can.” He pressed me backwards, so that I was lying on the table. His mouth found one of my nipples, sucking hard on it.

I cried out.

His mouth released the sensitive nub. “I
am
telling you what to do. And you’re going to listen to me.”

Just because he was sending bursts of pleasure all through my body? That didn’t mean anythin—

He captured my other nipple with his mouth.

I moaned again. What had I been thinking about?

And he was assaulting my breasts, his mouth and fingers all over me, pinching my nipples, licking them. I felt each touch like a tight thread of bliss that went straight to my clit. It pulsed, and my body clenched on itself.

I thrashed in his arms, squeezing my legs around him, holding him in place, moaning out my delight into the warm summer night.

“Are you going to write the article?” he whispered.

I could hardly think. I panted under him. But he couldn’t stop me, not just because he was pleasuring me. “Yes. Of course I’m going to write it.”

He made a low growling sound of displeasure. His mouth at my ear. “Wrong answer, Cecily.”

He jerked me off the table, back on my feet.

I was unsteady on my legs. I clutched him to keep my balance.

He nudged me to the edge of the balcony. “Grab the railing.”

I did it, but I wasn’t sure why. Then I felt his hands wrap around my waist. He undid the button of my pants and unzipped me. His fingers eased against my skin, grasping my underwear at the same time.

He eased my pants over my hips and thighs, pushing them down around my ankles.

Suddenly I was completely exposed. Naked. Outdoors. I let go of the railing, turning.

“No,” he said. “Grab the railing and don’t let go of it.”

I let out a slow breath, hesitating. I felt vulnerable, but I was also incredibly turned on. I liked the idea of putting myself completely at his mercy. It excited me. But I was afraid, as well. There was a voice inside my head trying to tell me that this was crazy.

Of course, it wasn’t a very loud voice.

I gripped the railing.

His hands were on my hips, tugging me against his body.

I could feel his erection through his suit, straining against the spandex.

He pressed himself into the soft curve of my ass. “Do you feel me, Cecily?”

“Uh huh,” I whispered. A warm breeze blew against my skin, against my bare nipples, which were still hard.

“Do you want me? Do you want my cock?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Where do you want it?”

I drew in a shaky breath. “I want it inside me.”

He reached around me to cup my breasts. Gently, he stroked them, teasing my nipples. His voice was soft. “Of course you do. You want it bad, don’t you?”

I gasped at his touch. “Y-yes.”

One hand traveled lower down my body, down between my legs.

I groaned.

He teased my clit, tickling it with one gloved finger.

I clutched the railing tighter. He was undoing me.

“You’re so wet for me,” he crooned, still working my clit. “Your pussy is drenched for me.”

“Please,” I whispered.

He let go of my breast. There was some movement behind me, and then his bare shaft was pressing into my skin. It was hot and stiff. “Shh. Don’t worry. I’m going to give it to you real soon.”

I let out breath. My body was trembling.

He made a few quick circles around my clit, making me cry out, and then he let go of that too.

I heard the sound of a wrapper ripping. “You have condoms out here?”