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“You forced me into this.” I’m thankful my voice comes in its calmest tones. “How am I supposed to live day-to-day under your mercy if I don’t even know you? If you’re going to kill me, do it. If not, then I won’t be a silent puppet in your sick show. Whatever the hell that is.”
His unmoving eyes fix mine, but he doesn’t utter a word. Once again, I’m under the obligation to break the oppressive silence. “So?”
“What did I warn you of the first time you woke up here?”
Ugh. Why does he always answer a question with one of his own? Is there a way I can do that? I want to hold the freaking power for once.
He raises his eyebrows, silently demanding an answer. As a fool, I give him what he wants.
“Not to test your patience,” I mutter under my breath.
“I suggest you don’t forget that, kitten.”
He doesn’t have to add the ‘or else’ for me to understand the hidden threat.
“Would you stop nicknaming me as an animal?” My voice rises by a notch. I curse myself for the millionth time.
What is it about him that scares and irritates me at the same time?
“That’s another question.” He smirks.
“Stop referring to me as an animal.” I smirk back, internally patting myself for my great comeback.
“That’s not up for you to decide, mouse.”
I open my mouth to say whatever my brain didn’t get a chance to think about when he cuts me off.
“If you’re a good kitten, I’ll move you to a better place than this.”
Before I can register the information, he leaves. The click of the door gives birth to a grim void. It heightens with each passing second, forming dismay at the bottom of my psyche.
“Bastard.” I chew the last piece of chocolate cake. “He could’ve at least stayed until I finished these.”
I hate eating alone.
Chapter Eleven
Aaron
I throw my head back on the sofa and stare into the security feed.
I sacrificed half my resting time to watch Mae sleep.
How absurd is that?
‘Very. Kill her already.’
Shut up, demons. I need no such encouragements.
It has been a long week of handling Mae sporadically, trying to figure out what to do with her. My thoughts are plagued with ways to end her life and get it over with. I had my little fun. I got her close. I shattered her calm life. I could break her soul to pieces with one more night in the darkness.
Yet, the reason behind her haunting paintings still eludes me. It’s even more confusing that she’s terrified of the dark in the first place. Is she a masochist to draw about something she fears?
The more I visit her, the stronger I’m drawn to unravel her.
I don’t want things to end here.
My gaze darts to the file Kane delivered. It lays on my desk, untouched, seducing me to delve into its pages.
