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So I lift my gaze, forcing myself to connect with his eyes. The endless darkness inside his vicious stare takes my breath away. He doesn't look like himself. He doesn't even look like a person.
I’ve never seen anyone so cold. Not even Rossi, which is saying something. There were moments back in that freezing cold cell where I thought for sure he wasn’t even human. That he was a demon or something.
But this is a whole other level. Because this man has been inside me. He used me. He’s also very gently, almost tenderly, cleaned me up afterward. For fuck’s sake, he tried to introduce me to classic cinema. We aren’t strangers. Yet that's what it feels like now.
“There she is,” he murmurs. “There’s the lying little slut.”
Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction, dammit.
“What? No smart-ass answer? No cutting remark? I’m surprised.” He folds his arms, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t been here all that long. I thought you were stronger than this. I’d say I’m disappointed, but you can’t disappoint me any more than you already have.”
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stay on my feet… too tired. Before I know it, my knees give out, and the floor rushes up to meet me. I brace myself for my body to hit the unforgiving ground, but instead, my head lands against a firm chest. Strong arms wrap around me, giving me the support I so desperately need to stand.
For a single moment, I close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere else. I’m in Lucas's apartment, and he is holding me on the couch, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
For that short moment, I’m safe. I’m happy. I’m loved.
“On your feet,” Lucas snarls, shoving me away like I’m nothing to him. I stumble backward, surprising myself by not falling on my ass as soon as he lets go of me. “You will stand in my presence. Do you understand?” I barely dip my chin, blinking hard to try to wake myself up. I take a few deep breaths, too, hoping for the oxygen to clear my head.
“So that’s what it takes, huh?” Lucas muses aloud. He sounds like he’s having fun. “That’s where they fell short before. They should have made it so you couldn’t sleep. Well, Quinton is young. He doesn’t have the experience that I have. I’m sure he’s never tortured anyone to death.”
No, but he’s definitely killed. Many times. A sinister bubble of laughter escapes me.
“Is there anything funny about what I said?” he demands, cupping my chin and lifting my head until our eyes meet again.
He leans in close, and for one completely insane moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. Just goes to show what happens to a person’s brain when they haven’t slept in days.
His eyes dart over my face, his lips twisting in a smirk. “How’s it feel, knowing your little plan went to shit? Did you honestly think you could get past Quinton? I’m sure you did because you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be loved.”
Don’t react. Whatever you do, do not react.
“I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise,” he continues in a deceptively quiet, smooth voice, like ice skittering over my spine. “I can’t even hold it against you. From the minute you were born, I’m sure people have told you you’re worthless. Useless. A burden. So how could you help but fail in your little plan?”
Stay strong. You’re better than this.I know he only wants to break me down. He wants the satisfaction of making me cry, and with a guard in the room, he’s less likely to pull my pants down and fuck me. So he has to use another method. But I’m not going to let him win. Nothing in the world has ever mattered more than not letting him win.
“I guess you wouldn’t know there’s nothing a person won’t do to protect their loved one.” His gaze hardens and intensifies. “You wouldn’t know because you are not actually worthy of love. The same goes for your little partners. Marcel, and whoever he was working with on the outside.”
So that’s it. That’s the endgame. He wants a name.
“Who is it?” he whispers. “Come on. You have the chance to do something right for once. You can make up for a little bit of the harm you’ve caused. Do the right thing. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Are you finished yet?” I croak. “Or aren’t you tired of hearing yourself talk?”
His grip tightens an instant before he throws me back. I glance off the cot and scrape my tailbone against the frame. Pain radiates up my spine. I'm still whimpering in pain when I’m yanked to my feet again.
“I should have known. You can’t even make the right choice, the only choice that will help you in a situation like this. Where it’s obvious nobody gives a fuck what happens to you. Did you give that a moment’s thought before you began putting your plan in motion? You are expendable. You’re a pawn. The person behind this will sleep well tonight, not giving a damn about what happened to you. And you’re still going to protect them?”
“I’m not a rat,” I whisper, and this time, I don’t need his help lifting my chin. I can do it myself.
He lifts his brows. “Am I supposed to applaud? Should I respect that? Because from where I’m standing, you’re a fool. A liar. You might as well be a rat because you’ve already betrayed me. Someone who tried to do well by you.”
“Do well by me?” For some reason, out of everything that’s come out of his filthy mouth, that’s what finally does it. I can’t stay quiet. “Since when have you done well by me? What, because you didn’t kill me before now, I’m supposed to be grateful? Because you’ve only used me a few times like I’m not even human, I should break down crying from shame? Because I betrayed you?”
Now, I’m awake again. Now, I don’t care if it makes me look weak to react. I can’t help myself. “Tell yourself all you want that you’re the good guy,” I mutter through clenched teeth, “but we both know the truth. All you want to do is grind me down so you feel superior to at least one person in this school. Well, fuck you.”
“I’d watch what I say if I were you,” he whispers. “Next time, I might come back alone. And I think we both know I can’t help myself when I have you alone.”
Maybe it’s the stubborn streak in me that keeps me from blurting out what pops into my head.Sure, that’s probably the only way you can get it up.I want to die, but I’m not that desperate to take my last breath. And I know I would if I said that. He’d probably snap my neck without thinking about it.
When I don’t react, he shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “That’s all right. I’m a patient man, Delilah. Those of us who are free to eat, drink, and sleep whenever we please can afford to be patient. You’ll come around.” I wish he would hold his breath until the time comes, but I’ll settle for him getting the hell out of my face. He does, followed by the guard, who locks the door as always.
I collapse onto the cot, curling into a ball, facing the wall again. This time, when tears threaten to fill my eyes, I don’t bother fighting them back. I don’t have the strength now.
You’re unlovable. You’re worthless. You’re a failure. Nobody has ever loved you. Because you’re broken.
I’m not so sure I want to die anymore. Now I want to live. Now I have a reason to.
I’m going to make him pay. I’m going to make them all pay if it’s the last thing I ever do.
This time, when I close my eyes, nobody pounds on the door. Whether that’s because Lucas decided to back off a little, or I just got lucky, I don’t know. Sleep overtakes me before I can decide what’s more likely.
