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“I just...” I gulp, and he sees, his eyes dropping to my throat. “Why did you kill your father?”
It's a while before he answers me. He's assessing the situation, as I would, wondering if telling me is of any benefit to him.
“I had a sister once,” his voice is soft as he says this, grief flashing through his blue eyes, “and now I don't.”
“Oh...” there is a semblance of emotion in my voice, which is strange, given I don't give a shit about Charlie or his sister. “What happened to her?”
“Can't you guess?” he says, giving me his hardest stare.
I look away from him, a niggling feeling telling me that Maksim might have had something to do with Charlie's sister not being around anymore. Maybe that's Charlie's real agenda with me. Maybethisisn't about Maksim double crossing him after all. Maybe his agenda is about getting some justified payback for his sister.
“Tell me, Blaire, you've known Maksim since you were... what... seven/eight years old?”
“Why would you think that?” I screw up my features. “I never told you how long I've known him.”
“I've asked around about you, and one person told me that he stole you ten years ago.”
Stole me? That's news to me. Maksim said I was sold to him.
Another long pause. The silence between us is stifling, and my thoughts are rambling.
“Why would you ask around about me?” I say eventually.
A smile plays on Charlie's lips. “Curiosity.”
I scoff again, though in irritation. I don't like his prying.
“Is it true?” he says, looking between my eyes. “Have you known him since you were that young?”
“I think so,” I whisper, swallowing and nodding in union. I don't want to talk about this. I want to know why he thinks Maksim stole me.
“You think you were that young?” Charlie says, putting his hands back on the table, looking solemn in his pose. “What does that mean?”
“I don't remember much of being young, Charlie,” I tell him honestly. “I don't even remember meeting Maksim.” I shouldn't be indulging him but I'm hoping that if I let him in on a little of my past, he'll tell me more about Maksim apparently stealing me.
Why would Maksim tell me he bought me when he stole me? It doesn't make sense. If he stole me, he should have just told me. It wouldn't change things either way.
Charlie doesn't elaborate on what he knows. It seems he's got other things on his mind, like, “Did he sexually abuse you when you were younger?”
On autopilot, I jump to my feet. “Why would you think that?”
With a sardonic expression on his face, he arches a brow at me.
“Don't you look at me like that. You know I'm a...”Fuck,I can't even bring myself to say that innocent word. “You know I've not had sex before.”
He looks me up and down in irony. “There are other ways to toy with girls, as I'm sure you know.”
A cold drop of sweat slides down the side of my face.
“I can't be speaking about this. I can't be speaking about Maksim to you.” Yes, I want to know what happened to me, but not that much.
I fiddle to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
I never get anxious when it comes to a confrontation, but he—after that revelation about his father—he makes me anxious.
“It's getting late,” I say, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I should probably-”
“Sit back down, Blaire—that's not a request.” He extends a steady hand, motioning for me to take to my seat. “I was just asking. I'm concerned, is all.”
