Page 220 of Romeo

“I don’t give a fuck if you sleep with the goddamn thing between your ass cheeks.” I leaned closer. “You don’t get to decide whether she had a reason to be fucking scared of you. You followed her. You grabbed her. You let her know you knew where to find her. And you did it armed. That’s what you did.”

His eyes stayed locked on mine.

“Say it.”

“I scared her.”

“Not good enough.”

His breath shuddered out. “I followed her when she tried to leave. I grabbed her, and I told her I knew where she worked.”

“And?”

“I had the gun.”

I held his gaze for another long second before easing the pressure off the blade, though I didn’t take it away.

“Good. Now you’re finally telling the truth.”

He looked at the knife. “I won’t bother her again.”

“No, you fucking won’t.”

I shifted the blade just enough to remind him how thin the distance was between a warning and something permanent.

“You don’t go near her again. You don’t ask about her. If you see her somewhere, you turn and go the other fucking direction. If I find out you so much as thought about her, this stops being a warning.”

“I understand.”

“I’m not finished.”

His mouth snapped shut.

“If I ever hear that you put your hands on her again, I won’t come back here to talk. I won’t beat some sense into you and leave you sitting on your own floor covered in blood and piss. There won’t be another warning, Marcus.”

His face had gone pale beneath the blood.

I smiled. “You understand what I’m telling you now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

I held the knife against his throat for one more second, long enough that he’d remember exactly what cold steel felt like every time he thought about Fiona.

Then I pulled it away.

Webb sagged against the wall.

I wiped the blade on his shirt before slipping it away.

“You’re fucking insane.”

I straightened. “Maybe.”

My gaze moved over his bloody face.

“But you’re going to remember me.”