The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(29)

To think—something she very much didn’t want.

She arched up to reclaim his mouth, but he turned his face slightly to the side. If he hadn’t been breathing hard, she might have died of embarrassment. Eden cleared her throat. “Let me down.”

He did, but sliding against his body did funny things to the anger she was trying so hard to hold on to. From his expression, Zach knew it. He framed her face with his big hands, his calluses dragging over her sensitive skin. “I’d be lying if I said I wanted to stop.”

Then why did you? She didn’t give the words voice. She refused to.

His thumbs feathered along her cheekbones and down to her bottom lip, his blue eyes dark in the faint light of the room. “Neither of us can afford to be distracted right now.”

He was right, but that didn’t take the sting out of the rejection. She jerked from his grasp, smoothing back her hair and fighting to compose herself. “You think highly of yourself.”

“Damn, Eden.” He laughed, the low sound making her shake. “You need me to prove how much I want you?”

“No.” She could see the evidence as plain as day, pressed against the front of his jeans. It was tempting to close what little distance remained between them and kiss him again, to press herself against that spot, but he was right. There were more important things at play than her need to forget.

If she’d been anywhere but in Clear Springs, she wouldn’t have even been tempted by this too-hot-for-her-own-good sheriff.

Probably.

She turned to the window. “I think you should leave.”

He was so silent, she actually glanced back to make sure he was still there. The look in his eyes stilled her breath and made her entire body perk up and take notice. Zach raked his gaze over her, but he took a step back, and then another. “You’ll be okay?”

“Perfectly fine.” She managed a smile, though it felt unnatural on her face. “I’m an agent, remember?”





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Neveah Smith curled into the smallest ball possible and prayed. She’d never been particularly religious in any way that counted, and in the past she’d shown up at the little church in Clear Springs only when she wanted to cause a stir. It had been so much fun to flash a little skin at those tight-ass boys and watch them realize what lust really was.

Those games seemed so fucking childish now.

She hadn’t known what fear was.

She pressed her head to her knees and searched for some sign of the higher power her parents were always talking about. Mom and Dad. She missed them. Another one to chalk up to the list of things she’d never thought would happen.

Kind of like being trapped in a room without light or food or a bathroom for days on end. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here. Her captor didn’t seem to come in with any schedule. When he’d first thrown her into the room with no windows and only one door, she’d thought it was all part of the game. A little slap and tickle. A walk on the dark side. He’d play captor and she’d play victim and he’d get his rocks off and get hers off in the bargain.

But there was no room in this dirty, dark space for pleasure.

Only pain.

It took a grand total of an hour for Neveah to realize she was in over her head, for it to penetrate that the things she’d been promised were lies. Lies that might get her killed. That’s when she started begging. She’d done everything he asked and more, desperate to prove to him that she could hold her silence if he’d just let her go.

What a joke. Hours—days—in and she started to believe she’d never see the clear Montana sky above her again. Would her parents miss her? She’d never been the easiest kid, but who could blame her? Clear Springs might be a dream to some people, but every day that passed felt like it was choking the life out of her. She’d never meant any harm with the bullshit she’d gotten into. Mostly. Throwing herself into trouble was the only thing that made her feel alive. Some of her classmates were just biding their time until graduation and moving off to whatever college they’d picked. That was crap. Sitting around waiting for life to start was as good as a death sentence as far as Neveah was concerned. She wanted to live, and she wanted to do it now.

Ironic that that might be the thing that killed her. Or was it ironic? She hadn’t been paying attention in English when Mr. Stigleider was talking about irony, because she was too busy flirting with John Winchester. He had dreamy dark eyes and clever hands, and she’d shown him exactly what he could do with those hands in the backseat of his car that very night. She’d even had a tinge of regret when she broke his heart a month later.

Shivers racked her body, making her grip on her shins slip. It was so cold. Her clothes were gone before she made it in here, taken with the promise of showing her things boys in high school couldn’t dream of. She’d wanted that. She’d wanted it so much, it made her throw caution to the wind and slip away from the bonfire the Johnson boys threw Friday night.

What day is it? I don’t even know anymore.

It took more effort than it should have to lift her head and stare up into the darkness. “God?” Her voice was raspy from disuse—or maybe it was from screaming—but it felt important to say the words aloud. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been a very good person, and maybe you think I deserve this because of it.” Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to continue. “But I’m sorry. I promise if you get me out of this, I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. I—”