Page 49 of The Quiet Witness

His face fell. “How are you feeling?”

Kate carefully focused on the outside world. Hands still brushing through Ghost’s hair. “As if I am a boxing bag, swaying from one person to the next, taking all the hits, while I’m just waiting for someone to strike true.”

Silence.

“Why didn’t you… take care of them right away?” Why didn’t you soak the snow with their blood?

He shrugged again. “Seemed to me that you had enough adventure for one day.”

She shouldn’t bring it up. Should save her energy. But that silly stupid mug had brought her off balance. Wanting to understand, she blurted out. “I don’t get it. Why do men feel as if we women exist just to be groped?”

To his credit he winced. “I’m sorry.”

Her hand stilled. Did he just apologize?

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how he reached out. Fingers stilling before touching hers. “I shouldn’t have gone that far.”

Her head spun. Was this some kind of game? If so, he could skip acting school because it sounded so… genuine.

Words turned to dust on her tongue.

“As for what gets into other men. Power. Always.” He pulled out a chair. Sitting down across from her. “Truth is, Kate. Hell is empty, and the devils are here, free to play around.” He sipped from his coffee. As if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down. “Power is all they care about. You have to strip that away from them.”

She swallowed. The movement not going lost on him. “How?” It came out weaker than she intended.

But he held her gaze. “By the way you hold yourself. Only then will the feeling change, and to change posture… self-defense.” He leaned closer. “I can teach you.”

If only it would work on the one handing out the advice.

“It defines whether you’re the prey or the predator. You need to be the latter, always.”

A low, mirthless snort escaped her. “That sounds… exhausting.”

“It can be.” He flexed his hand into a fist. “It was the walk.”

The walk? What was he on about?

“The way you had your arms wrapped around yourself. The small steps. Not really knowing where to go.”

Her gaze sharpened. “You watched.” Again, his fist flexed. His gaze remained neutral as he took her in. Not even trying to deny it.

The chair clattered to the floor behind her. “You watched.” She shook her head. Impossible. He couldn’t be that… emotionless, that psychopathic. “While I fought for my life, you stood by and… watched?!” She screamed out the last word. Ghost backed away from her.

The world spun around her as she held on to the table for dear life.

There was no emotion visible on his face as he said. “I came the second you remembered I was there.”

She braced a hand on her temple. Drilling. It felt like someone was drilling into her mind.

“You let me writhe on the ground, buried beneath a human trafficker. And waited for me to scream your name for help?! Did you enjoy seeing me grapple for my life?”

“No.”

It didn’t even register. “How twisted can a person be…”

He stood up slowly. “You were never in any actual danger.”

How dare he! “Oh excuse me. I must have been imagining things.” She pulled away her sweater, revealing a full—on view of the bruises. “These appeared out of thin air, hmm?”