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Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson
img img Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson img Chapter 6 6
6 Chapters
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 6 6

The door banged against the wall with the sound of a gunshot.

Alexia jumped. She was on the floor, kneeling beside a pile of blankets she had arranged into a makeshift bed.

Jensen stared at the nest of pillows on the hardwood floor. Then he looked at the massive, king-sized bed, perfectly made, empty.

"What are you doing?" he asked. His voice was tight.

Alexia stood up. She was wearing oversized pajamas, but she still looked frail. Her hand went automatically to her side.

"The guest rooms are locked," she said. Her voice was flat. "Eleanor's orders."

"So you sleep on the floor? Like a dog?"

"I'm not sleeping in that bed with you, Jensen."

He walked into the room, kicking a pillow across the floor. "This is ridiculous. You are my wife. You sleep in the bed."

"I'm your hostage," she corrected. "Not your wife."

He grabbed her arm. He didn't mean to squeeze, but he was angry. He was unsettled, though he wouldn't admit it.

"Get in the bed, Alexia."

She winced. "You're hurting me."

He let go as if burned. He saw the red marks his fingers left on her pale skin. Guilt flashed through him, hot and quick, but he buried it under anger.

"Fine," he spat. "Sleep on the floor. See if I care. If you get sick, don't expect me to play nurse."

He stormed into the bathroom. He turned the shower on cold. He stood under the spray, trying to wash away the image of her passport. Trying to wash away the feeling of losing control.

When he came out, the room was dark.

He got into bed. The sheets were cold.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling. He could hear her breathing on the floor. It was shallow, uneven. Hitching breaths.

He turned on his side. He looked over the edge of the bed.

She was curled into a tight ball, shivering.

Dammit.

He threw the covers off. He got out of bed and bent down.

"Alexia."

She didn't answer. She just whimpered.

He scooped her up. She was terrifyingly light. She felt like a bird, all hollow bones and fragility.

"No..." she mumbled, pushing weakly against his chest.

"Shut up," he whispered.

He laid her on the bed. He pulled the duvet over her.

She scrambled to the far edge, putting as much distance between them as the mattress allowed. She turned her back to him.

Jensen lay down on his side. He stared at the curve of her spine under the pajamas.

He wanted to reach out. He wanted to pull her back to the center. Back to him.

Instead, he turned his back to her.

They lay there, inches apart, separated by an ocean of silence.

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