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“And I’ve been trying to ruin him for just as long,” Sunny growled.
I raised an eyebrow.
“It’s taken time to build up the necessary tools...and men to take down a man like Greyson,” Sunny admitted slowly. “Especially when he lost you...he became...a force to be reckoned with. Not distracted like he is now. He was building my kingdom, collecting all the power that would one day be mine. So, I worked behind the scenes while he did all the hard work,” Sunny shrugged. “It was a smart move to let him have his fun.”
“So, you just let bigger men do all the hard work and then you try and take credit for it, is that it?” I commented, thoroughly unimpressed. Which worked in my favor becauseunimpressedseemed to piss him off the most.
“You were the one to run me down that day? Right?” I asked, desperately hoping he would continue to be a chatty Kathy because I needed to know what had happened.
He pretended to look sorry, but it came across mocking—which perhaps had been his intent. “It’s amazing what the brain does to protect us, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You overheard me talking to Greyson’s father about getting rid of Greyson. You left immediately to tell him, and I had to run you down right before you made it to them, to stop you.”
I stared at him, shocked. Because I may have been able to recover a lot of memories, but there was nothing involving him. No memories with his face, or his voice.
“You still don’t remember, even now?” he asked, cocking his head, his smile predatory.
I shrugged. “Apparently you’re just not memorable,” I told him.
His smile dropped at that.
The ego of this guy. He really thought he was some kind of god. Or that he deserved to be a god at least.
“Alright, now that you’ve bared your soul...is this where you kill me?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “That would kind of defeat the purpose, right? I suppose it would be fun to send your head to him in a box or something like that. But that wouldn’t get him here. Where I have men and enough firepower to finally bring him down.”
“What’s it like in that head of yours, do you just constantly think about how you wish you had Greyson’s dick?” I murmured in an awestruck voice.
His face reddened and he snarled at me. “You know, I’ve always felt sorry for you. A little slut, desperate for someone to love her, with so many daddy issues a therapist wouldn’t know where to start...but I’m not feeling so sorry for you at the moment.”
He leaned forward, a small smile on his face.
“And believe me. With what I have planned, you’re really going to want me to feel sorry for you.”
With those kind tidings, he tipped his chin at me and left the room, the lock clicking behind him.
I sprung from my chair and threw it on the ground. It did absolutely nothing, and it didn’t make me feel any better.
I went to the door and banged on it.
And then banged on it some more.
Eventually, I started screaming and banging at the same time, hiccuped sobs falling from my mouth.
I knew this wasn’t doing anything for my situation. But it was making me feel slightly better.
I finally exhausted myself, and picked up the chair, falling into it with a huff.
I guess now, I would just have to wait.
At some point the lock on the door clicked open, and I sat up, staring at it hopefully. “I have a gun, so don’t even think of trying something,” a rough and gravelly voice warned sternly before the door creaked open, and an older woman shuffled in, her frizzy red hair haloed around her head like a fiery crown. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned the room, taking in every detail with keen intensity, like I’d somehow figured out how to rig a booby trap in here.
She was carrying a tray of food in her freckled hands, the aroma of the meal wafting through the air, enticing and repelling at the same time.
How long had it been since I ate? My stomach grumbled and her lips pressed in a thin line, like the sound had offended her.
