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“What?”
She held up the fry.
He looked from her to the fry and pulled it into his mouth right from her hand. “I did not put anything in the food,” he said. “I would not kill you that way. Only cowards use poison.”
She hid her relief. “That’s not why I did that. I wanted to feed you. God, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”
He clenched his fists.
She moved closer until their arms touched.
“It was good,” he said, after a long silence.
She regarded him with wide, disgustingly innocent eyes. “What was?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh. Well, you, uh, did come a…a lot.” She could sneeze more semen than he’d released. Maybe, instead of spying on her and Adrían, he should have spied on her and Joel to see what a real man was capable of producing at climax.
“Shut up,” he spat.
“Did I do it okay?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Want another one later?”
“I said eat your food and shut the fuck up.”
She kissed his cheek again. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Stop.”
“Siriano, it’s not love. It’s compromise. It’s survival. Surely, you understand. Play along. You’ve never role-played?”
He remained silent.
She forced herself to eat.
While he was gone, she’d worked on loosening one of the baseboards next to the bed. Behind it, the wall had chipped away some, which gave her the perfect hiding spot for the knife. He would have likely returned and caught her if she’d worked on the rope. As long as she had the knife, she had time.
Compassion could exist in some of the vilest creatures. Had they been lab rats in a glass cage, she could see there being prying eyes who would see him soften, see him grow enamored, and feel as though they’d switched roles—her as the villain, him as the victim. But this man would pay for what he’d done to her children, especially her baby boy. For her children, she would stab asaintin the heart.
Fuck an ice pack.
CHAPTER41
Joel tried to hide his frustration as best as he could; however, none of this was anyone’s fault but his own. Had he not looked away, he would have seen the moment Lavigne took Ayesha. Then, after finding the abandoned boat along the shore, followed by footprints that simply disappeared, they’d met nothing but dead ends.
“Daddy? Are you there? It’s Theo.”
Joel scrubbed a hand down his face and brought the phone back to his ear. “Hi, baby boy. Grandma said you were sleeping.”
Their trail had picked back up, heading north, but it went cold again south of Stockholm. Their best estimate was that she could be as far west as Flen and as far east as Dalarö, but at best, that was a 138-kilometer, 85-mile perimeter.
“I waked up,” Theo said. “Are you and Mama coming home soon? Grandma said you and Mama took honey to the moon.”
“Yeah, and it’s a long trip. We’ll…be home soon.”
