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My fingers tremble at that word.Mine.But it’s not out of fear, it’s something else that I can’t quite pinpoint, so I blurt, “That’s called coercion.”
“Always with the labels, Lia. It’s getting tedious.”
“I told you. I’m giving things their name.”
“It changes nothing except offering you some sense of fragile justice.”
“Justice is not fragile.”
“Oh, but it is. Those who believe in it fail or are slapped in the face by harsh truths.”
“Then what do you believe in?”
“Patterns.”
I’m taken aback by that. After I take a bite of my salad and swallow, I speak, “How does someone believe in patterns?”
“Patterns are a powerful tool that allow me to see the outcome before it happens.”
I scoff. Of course someone like Adrian would like that type of power.
“You don’t agree, Lia?”
“Not particularly. I’m just not surprised you’d be attracted to that sort of thing.”
“You’re starting to get to know me. That’s progress.”
“I don’t know you, Adrian, and I prefer it stays that way.”
“Why? Because you can bury your head in the sand and pretend like none of this is happening? You do realize that’s useless, right? The more you resist, the more pain you bring upon yourself.”
“Let me worry about that. Whatever I feel or don’t feel is none of your business.”
“Watch that tone, Lia.” His voice lowers with an unveiled threat.
“Or what?”
“Or I will take my belt to your ass.”
“You…”
“Go on.” His eyes spark with pure sadism. “By all means, give me a reason to punish you.”
Fire explodes in my chest and I try to swallow it down, to no avail.
Jesus.This man is a true devil.
I stuff my face with the salad to keep from spouting whatever is trying to come out.
“Slower,” he reprimands. “Or you’ll get indigestion.”
“As if you’d care.”
“Of course I would. I’m not that heartless.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I truly am not—under the right circumstances.”
