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“You deserve a lot worse.”
“I tried not to think about you. I wanted to contact you, but I couldn’t.”
“Were you hoping to torment me more?”
He shrugged. Something about his lack of protest, about the pain I’d seen in his eyes, had me hesitating. He must have viewed my silence as weakness because he held my gaze steadily as he licked the blood off his lip and groaned.
He laughed, the sound low and filled with menace. “You still want me.”
I tried to look away, but I was mesmerized. How could he flirt with me now? He knew I could kill him. I didn’t even have to make it look like an accident. I could torture him as long as I wanted to.
“So what if I do want you? I can have you. I could knock you out and fuck you back to life. I could tie you up and fuck you over and over until you begged for mercy.”
“You could, but you won’t.”
He was right. I might have the stomach to hurt him, to make him pay with pain, but I’d never mix sex with that. No matter how rough either of us liked it, that had been all play, and this would be real. Even if I didn’t care about him—I didn’t, did I? Why would I?—I knew breaking him like that would fuck me up, push me to a place I couldn’t come back from.
“You’re a fucking traitor.” The words spilled out of my mouth, and I wasn’t sure if I was reminding myself or insulting him.
All Matteo did was laugh. “You have no idea what I am.”
“You think it’s funny? That you betrayed me–us.” His grin told me he’d caught my slip. I could not make this about me. “I know what you did. That’s enough.”
“Are you going to kill me now? To avenge everyone. Except…oh right, no one actually died.”
“Just because you didn’t have the guts to kill any of us doesn’t make you a good person.”
He laughed again. “No, baby, nothing is going to make me a good person. So why don’t you just put to a stop to it all? Take me out right now.”
My stomach churned as I realized I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill him. I could fight him, especially if I undid his restraints, but kill him, watch the light drain from those fucking sparkling eyes? I couldn’t do it. What the fuck was wrong with me? “Why did you do it?”
The fucker grinned at me. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”
“Tell me.”
“Or what?”
Red filled my vision.
I took a step back. I wasn’t going to let this happen. I wasn’t going to let him do this to me.
I kicked him in the gut. He grunted as the chair tipped and he hit the ground. I kicked the chair and it splintered. He strained, forcing the wood apart and freeing his hands.
Part of the chair still clung to him, but he had enough use of his body to come after me.
I ran at him, wanting to catch him off guard. He fell back into the wall and wavered, still groggy from the tranquilizer.
“Tell me why you did it.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you fucking can.” I squeezed his biceps and slammed him back against the wall. “Either confess or fucking fight.”
“Is there another option? There always was with you.”
“Do you seriously want me to kill you?”
He shrugged and that pain showed in his eyes again. “If you don’t, the cartel will. I failed here.”
