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She stood and came to me, stopping a couple of feet away. “I’m not answering your question until you answer mine. Why do you care whether I eat or not?”
I scrubbed my face. “Fuck, Ivy, you’re still as fucking argumentative as you were years ago.”
“And you’re still an asshole.”
“I never tried to change. Now tell me why you aren’t eating. Are you just trying to be a pain in my ass or are you not feeling well?”
“Did you ever consider that maybe I’m just not hungry? That you kidnapping and locking me up has killed my appetite.”
This fucking conversation was the last thing I had patience for. I decided to cut to the chase. “Where’s Tony?”
My question caught her off guard, and she frowned. “What do you mean?”
I exhaled harshly. “I mean, where the fuck is he? He’s not anywhere he should be.”
Still frowning, she said, “As far as I know, he should be either at home or at work.”
She appeared to be telling the truth, but my gut twisted with doubt over her honesty again. If she were anyone else, I’d push her a lot fucking harder.
I warred with myself over which path to take to get the information I needed. In the end, I went with my gut.
Gripping her neck, I walked her to the wall and held her against it, ignoring the shock in her eyes. “It’s been a long time for us, Ivy, since we’ve spent any time together, and I can’t fucking tell anymore if you’re being honest with me or if you’re lying through your teeth.” I gripped her harder. “What I can’t figure out is why you’d lie to me.” Pressing myself against her, I continued to squeeze her neck and bent my mouth to her ear. “Are you lying to me?”
Her fingers clawed at my hand, trying to pull it from her neck. Her breaths weren’t restricted, but my grip was painful enough to get her full attention and understanding that I wasn’t fucking around here. When I eased the pressure a fraction, she coughed and croaked out, “I’m not fucking lying to you! Let me go!”
I kept hold of her but eased the pressure a little more so she could speak without coughing. “Not until I know for sure what the fuck is going on.”
Her eyes burned with hate as she spat, “You wanna know what the fuck is going on here, King?”
“What?”
“Your fucked-up kink is what’s going on. Are you trying to get off while interrogating me?” When I didn’t respond straight away, she kept pushing. Taunting. “You’re just like your daddy. Tell me, King, have you succumbed fully yet? Have you turned into the kind of man your daddy would have been proud of?”
I clenched my jaw as her questions infected the air around us. What Ivy didn’t know was that since her, I’d embraced both the darkness his genes had given me, and my kink. I never took it to the extremes my father had, but I was brutal when it came to sex. Women knew what to expect—I never hid my desires—and if they didn’t want the shit I wanted, I never went back for more.
I’d accepted my needs a long fucking time ago, and chose to own my depravity rather than fight it. This was a button she could no longer push.
With one last squeeze of her neck, I let her go. “That’s not gonna work today, Ivy. I’m not the man you once knew. Not anymore.”
She either didn’t know anything further about Tony’s whereabouts or she wasn’t going to share it with me. There was no point continuing down this path. I’d find another way to get this information.
As I walked towards the door, she called out, “So that’s it, King? You come charging in here demanding answers and assaulting me, and then you just leave without another word? Without getting what you want?”
I glanced back at her. She appeared agitated that I was walking away. It reminded me of how shit used to go down between us. Me trying like fuck to avoid a fight, her throwing shit in my face, drawing the fight out of me. And here we were, still doing that same fucking dance.
Stalking back to her, I grabbed her throat again, pissed off at the attitude blazing from her. She might not have been able to provoke me before, but she sure as fuck had now. Playing her games wasn’t something I ever enjoyed doing. “Let’s get one thing straight—I ask the questions, you provide the answers. End of fucking story. And when I’m done with your husband, you’ll go back to your life and I’ll go back to mine.” I shoved my face closer to hers. “End of fucking story.”
The only fucking way to get through this was to throw that wall up between us that should never have been pulled down in the first place.
I exited the room and didn’t stop moving u
ntil I’d left the building. Wild energy engulfed me. Energy I didn’t know what the fuck to do with. My chest felt like it would explode and my fists craved violence. The fucking worst of it was that I couldn’t figure out my thoughts. They ran through my head so damn fast I could hardly latch onto them, and when I did, they conflicted with each other. This situation was stirring up a lot of shit from the past—shit I’d buried so fucking deep that I never wanted to confront again.
Fuck.
My phone rang, dragging me from my hell.
Devil’s name flashed across the screen. I swiped to answer it and barked, “Yeah?”
