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What a ridiculous claim.
To hell with disappointment. I allow the mounting anger in my chest to grow as I stare at her peaceful sleeping face.
One would think she’d have a fitful rest, considering the evil things she’s done for Anderson but judging from her even breathing, I can see she’s sleeping peacefully. She stirs in her sleep, and her eyes flutter open.
I stare intently into her deep hazel eyes, noting with irritation how the slight skip of my heart at the sight of those brown-green gold fringed depths dulled a little by sleep excites me. I don’t understand the reaction, but I suppose it’s a part of my irritation.
She groans softly as she tries to look around her. Her eyes fall on me, and her brows deepen in surprise. “You! Wh… why are you here?” Her melodious voice is a little raspy from having been unconscious for hours.
I lean back casually in the chair I’d pulled up to her bedside. “Do you remember me this time?” I ask with a dry scoff.
“You’re the man from the alleyway,” she replies, her frown deepening into confusion as her eyes grow more aware. She sits up on the bed, glancing around the airy guest room. “Wh…what’s going on here? Wh…Where am I?”
I scoff, shaking my head in amusement. Did she think I would fall for her little innocent missy act this time too? What sick game is she playing this time? It doesn’t matter because I’m going to play right along with her. “To answer your question as to what’s going on here…well, I abducted you. And as to where you are, you’re in a guest room of the Ruthless Kings’ clubhouse. Any other questions you would like me to answer, mademoiselle?”
She blinks at me as if genuinely confused about her situation. I’ve never met a better actress.
“What the hell do you want from me?” she asks, narrowing her eyes angrily at me. “Is it not enough that you almost strangled me to death in a dark alleyway? Now, you bring me to this…God knows where! How the hell did I get here?”
“What?” I ask with an amused snort that soon escalates into full-bodied laughter. She’s looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown horns, but that only escalates my amusement.
“Quite the pretense, ma cherie,” I say after my laughter pipes down. “Nobody is getting fooled tonight.”
“Oh my God,” she says, closing her eyes briefly. When she opens them again, they are filled with tears of frustration and panic. “What on earth is going on? Please let me go.”
I feel my heart clench with anger so great that I have to clench my fist. “You know…,” I say icily. “Your act is so convincing that I almost fell for it. Again. You’re a conniving bitch. I hope you know that?”
“Don’t call me names,” she says coldly, despite the slight tremor in her lower lips. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe she’s really terrified. “I told you not to insult me the last time you appeared before me.”
“The last time?” I repeat with a scoff. “The last time I appeared before you, I stopped you from killing the fucking Mayor of New Orleans.”
“That’s not true,” she says, shaking her head. “You must be mistaken. I’d never do that.”
“Yeah,” I say with a humorless scoff. “Deny it like you denied setting Bones up at the club. The same way you denied being at the Den. Did you follow me there? Did he send you? Fucking answer me when I’m talking to you!” I snap, slamming the bed frame with the heel of my right palm.
She yelps and jumps away from me in fright. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammers, cowering against the far end of the room. Fat tears slid down her cheeks, and my chest constricted with an indescribable emotion that vanished under the wave of stormy fury roaring in my chest. Abigail stubbornly wiped away her tears even as more fell off her lashes in rapid succession. “Why are you so mean to me? I’ve only seen you back at Mr. Grey’s office and the alleyway to my house. I…I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fuck!” I stand up and kick the chair away in my frustration. I run my hand through my hair and down my face in frustration. “Fuck! Fuck!” I mutter, turning away from her pitiful face. Why is she looking at me like I’m the monster? Why do I care?
Maybe she’s an enchantress? She has to be….
Why else do I feel my conscience prickling with guilt? What is this strange tightening in my chest each time I look into those boundless hazel eyes? Why do I feel bad for snapping at her even when I’m so angry and wronged?
I feel like throwing things and smashing the wall until it caves, but somehow, I’m holding back…for her.What the hell does that mean?
It doesn’t matter because her sorcery won’t work on me. I snatch the syringe off the bedside table and hold it up for her to see. “What is this then? Do you not recognize this too?”
She frowns at the syringe like it’s some object from hell. She shakes her head fervently. “I…I don’t know,” she stutters. “I’ve never seen that.”
Any form of compassion I might have felt for her seconds ago disappeared instantly. She’s not even worth my anger. I heave a heavy sigh and lift the chair I kicked earlier from the ground. I place the chair beside her bed again and lower myself on it.
“Do you know the weirdest thing, ma petite?” I ask with another sigh. “It’s that I can’t sense you lying. Do you have some kind of shielding magic?”
“Magic?” she asks in an incredulous tone. “I don’t believe in magic.”
She sits on the bed, leaning against the headboard in a hopeless posture. It’s like she’s accepted her fate – momentarily.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” I ask with a mocking scoff. “I’ll torture the truth out of you if I have to.”
