"Tell me who are you are, Sebastian. I need to know," I whisper as he holds my half-naked body against him, fingers tracing up and down my stomach. His arms are around my bare breasts now, and I have to struggle to keep breathing, to focus on him, to make him tell me who he is before I go crazy with need, because the desire is pouring in. And fast.

Sebastian pauses. His finger moves up from my belly button to the edge of my breast, and suddenly it's right beside my nipple again, sending shivers throughout my body. "If I tell you, I can't take it back," he says quietly. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"Yes. Please, Sebastian. You can trust me."

Sebastian is looking out the window still. His eyes are distant, his face as tight as ever. "You're my prisoner, angel," he hisses. "Don't forget it."

"I won't. Just tell me." I gasp as his finger slips down from my breast, past my belly button, and slows, moving gently back and forth, along the soft skin between my legs. My neck falls back and all I want is for him to slip it inside of me, for him to make all of the pain go away, but he doesn't. He just keeps running his finger along my skin, tracing it right there, so close.

"I got the job offer when I was eighteen," Sebastian says at last. His voice is heavy and sharp, but sad too. He doesn't meet my gaze. "I never planned to take it. I just, I knew I needed money, and with my reputation for fighting, my nonexistent education history, and my family history, no one would hire me. The only jobs I could get wouldn't pay for shit. I didn't know what to do. But I told you, I was angry back then. I've always been angry, I guess. Angry at the world for doing this to me, angry at my dad for ruining my life, angry at myself for leaving everything behind again and again. These were during my last few weeks with Jodie, and I'd pretty much figured I was going to leave her again too, if I wanted to get a job. But I wasn't ever planning on doing… what I do… until one morning, when I got in a fight with a guy who was smuggling drugs outside of her house. I was angry and I saw him doing something illegal right outside the house of the one person I had left, so I just snapped. I… I almost killed him." Sebastian's eyes are fiery now, bloodshot and angry. I can't help but notice the whiteness in his knuckles, the hurt in his eyes, the intensity rushing off of him. He's broken, I can see that much. Shattered. Trying to find a way to make it all work. "I was just so angry. I beat him and beat him. And I guess Marco and his gang saw my fight, probably because they were the one who sold the drugs in the first place, and when his men started to pull guns on me, Marco held them back. He grabbed my chin with his hands and pulled me up, and I was so scared. I thought he was going to kill me. I thought this was the end. And something about that was also kind of relieving, in its own twisted way. I just wanted him to do it already. To put me out of my misery. But instead, his face broke out into a smile, and he turned back to his men and said, 'This one has potential' and then they all brought me back to their headquarters where Marco offered me a job. To kill people, he said. To kill for them. And I was stupid then. I knew Jodie was getting old and frail and forgetful, and I knew I needed the money to get her care as much as I needed it for myself. I was so desperate back then, and Marco promised me the job would be rewarding, would help get rid of my anger, and when he showed me the money he'd give me for my first job, I just didn't have any other choice." Sebastian takes in a deep breath. Finally, he turns to me, his eyes more intense than I've ever seen them before. "I took it, angel. I fucking took it. And now, five years later, look where I am. It's been two years since I've betrayed him, and he is still after me."

My heart is beating faster and faster with each word he speaks. I realize I should be scared of Sebastian. I should be terrified, actually. I know the look I saw yesterday, when he killed that man. I know the little gleam was the look of a killer. But something about him is so hard to hate, so hard to be afraid of. Something about him just draws me in, and as dangerous as my attraction to him is, I'd rather have it no other way. Sebastian is thrilling, unpredictable. He's breathed so much energy and excitement and emotion into my life these past four months, something that the previous twenty-two years have totally lacked in. Being with Sebastian means living, really living, and it's the most exhilarating feeling in the world.

"Tell me about the jobs you did," I whisper. He opens his mouth to tell me no almost immediately, but I cut him off. "Tell me, Sebastian. I need to know who you are."

This sets him off. Before I know what's happening, he lifts his hand up from tickling at the soft skin of my thighs and latches it onto my arm in one, quick instant. His grip is hard and crushing, and his eyes train on me, so intense it looks like he's going to snap. "You know who I am, angel," he growls. Cool air whips in through the window in that instant, sending a shiver down my spine, but with Sebastian holding me like this, my heart just keeps pounding. Mostly out of fear, but a sick, twisted part of me also feels too turned on. A part of me loves being his prisoner. "You know me. Don't you fucking think otherwise." His grip is crushing, tightening around my wrist, but it doesn't even hurt. Sebastian's made sure it doesn't hurt. He cares too much to hurt me, I realize.

My head has already started throbbing, and the heat from Sebastian's body surges around me, like electricity in the air. I shift back in his lap, feeling suddenly so exposed without a shirt or bra on. "But--" I start to protest.

His turn to cut me off. "Stop it," he roars. "Just stop it!" His grip is still tight around my arm, and I feel my body starts to shake, feel the familiar fear creep in. I stare into those tortured blue eyes of his, searching to find the Sebastian I love amid the bundle of anger. To find him, and then help heal him.

"That's not fair," I whisper after a minute, my blood pounding in my ear. "How can I trust you if you can't trust me?"

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I expect him to explode at me some more. In fact, I brace myself for the inevitable anger, but nothing comes. Instead, Sebastian stiffens. Releases his grip on my hand. I freeze, but the intensity in his gaze doesn't seem to want to leave. "You get one question, angel," he says in a low voice. "One. Make it specific. And then when we're done, we're going to fuck. Okay? I need you. I need you everywhere and I need you fucking now."

I nod, wanting it so, so bad, and he reaches out a hand, stroking my dark hair all the way down to my breast. More tingles race through me, faster this time, because just the idea of having Sebastian inside of me again is almost too much to bear. "Okay," I whisper. I start to ask him about how many people he's killed, or why Marco wanted them dead, or anything sensible. But then my eyes lock on the scar on his jaw, the little slit where the skin never healed correctly. It looks like a knife wound, and I remember how defensive Sebastian got last time I brought it up. I know I need to know where it came from. I want to know. So I say, eyes locked on his, "Tell me one thing about that scar on your jaw."

Sebastian looks ready to protest as soon as the words leave my mouth, but he doesn't. Doesn't move. Just stares at me, hard and strong, searching my eyes for some kind of sign, like he's debating whether it's right to tell me or not. It occurs to me then how many secrets Sebastian must be keeping from me, how, even after everything, I still don't really know who he is.