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“You are sick, you know that?”
“Have you told my son the same thing?” He’s trying to taunt me, but two can play that game.
“You’re jealous of Lucas?” I smirk for no other reason than to piss him off.
I get it now.
His lips form a straight line, then he puckers them, biting the bottom one.
“I am jealous of no one, least of all someone who does my bidding.” He scoffs.
My feet move fast as I move closer. “But you are. Why, though?”
Merci groans and I look down. She’s clutching at her stomach, her face now white with pain.
“I’m not jealous,” he states, his expression unmoving.
I see cigarette butts near Merci. He was burning her with them.
What sort of fucked-up fuck does that to another person?
Turning my attention back to him, I stare as he gets bored with my conversation and walks over to a pack of cigarettes before lighting one and sitting on his sofa.
“Take a seat. We have things I wish to discuss.”
Merci groans again, and my chest aches in response. I drop to comfort her, but he hisses from where he sits, bringing my attention back to him.
“Leave the bitch and sit, or I’ll throw gasoline over her before I burn her with my cigarette.”
Biting my cheek, I stand and move to sit on the sofa opposite him. He crosses his legs, and his brown eyes lock on mine.
“Tell me… what made you run from me? I would have given you everything.”
“Is that really what you think?” I ask, somehow without rolling my eyes. “How could it have worked? You were a client? I wasn’t with you because I wanted you, Malik. I was with you because you paid me. You know the difference, right?”
“That’s what they all say until I offer to give them more.”
“You could have offered me a house and the fanciest car, and I still would have said no. You have nothing I want.”
His fingers grip the side of the sofa, and I watch as he holds it tight, his knuckles turning slowly white.
“I find that hard to believe,” he says through gritted teeth. “Considering my son is the only one who seems to have caught your eye.”
This man—he’s missing several brain cells.
How does he not get it?
At all.
“If you say so.”
The asshole stands quickly at my words and stomps over to me.
“Lucas isn’t going to save you. He collected you for me. It’s what my son does. He has a reputation for collecting. Surely, you know this?” I keep my mouth shut. “But what most people don’t know is he collects for me. Granted, he doesn’t fuck them all. Actually, none of them, so you must have been really special.” His finger traces my jaw, and my spine locks tight. “How did he make you come?” he asks. “Teach me. I will fuck you into tomorrow and show you I can give you everything you want and more.”
“Do you really want to know what he did?” I ask, and he leans in eagerly to hear more. His breath is all over my face, and I want to vomit. “He took a knife…” his eyes go wide at my words, interest piquing him, “… then he slit his throat. You should try it.”
Boom!
