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"Anything, Jordan, please yell. We can do it in my room. I’ll take it. I just can’t bear your silence. I’ll die otherwise."
"Don’t fucking say that. You won’t die if I don’t talk to you," he growls.
"You can never know. I love you, Jordan, and I’m not afraid to say it anymore..." my voice cracks as I speak.
God, you sound like a desperate thirteen-year-old! mymind scolds me.
But I’m not thirteen. I’m fucking desperate.
"I love you, Jordan, and I’m not going to let you go, so tell me something, anything. It’d hurt me but tell me."
He grabs me by the arm and begins pulling me back into the house.
It's not harsh because when I slow down, he does too, but generally he prefers to keep it only fast peace and indulge.
We move hastily, and finally, he gets into my room.
"Do you know what I’m going to do?" he asks me. I shake my head. "I’m going to kill Thomas. That’s why I’ve been here all along. I’m not a bodyguard. I’m the heir to the throne of the Omani kingdom.”
I should have been all wide-eyed, but I guess I had expected it, mostly not in this dimension because it didn’t make sense that the prince himself would want to avenge his father's death, =. But still, it was not a far cry.
But then a fact that he said chills me to the bones.
"You, you, you said you’re going to what?" I stutter.
"You heard me, Rebecca, stop playing dumb. I’m going to kill your ex-husband, and that’s the reason I’ve been in this damn house. I could be living my life as the new Sultan of Oman, but I didn’t, you know why? Because I have my father’s name to avenge, and I will do it even if it kills me." He breathes hoarsely, and his eyes are locked on in determination.
It’s scary, but I have no words.
"At first, I despised you, Rebecca,” he went on. “I wanted nothing to do with anyone related to Thomas Hilbert. The only person I didn’t hate was Skylar because she's innocent of all this. But then I gave you a chance. I admitted my feelings to someone that was stabbing me in the back. You gave me reason to despise you. Why?" he croaks.
"I’m sorry." Sincere tears fall from my eyes. I have no idea what to say or how to even convince him that I’m innocent. I would never do anything to deliberately hurt him.
"You're going to take me along with you on that trip to the oil rig," he tells me, and before he completes his statement, I think I might have an idea of what he wants to do. "Somehow get only Thomas to follow you, no other person. We need very little casualties. That’s where I would kill him. I’m thinking with a knife, slit his throat the exact same way he did my father." He shrugs casually like he's not planning bloody murder. "Maybe I could use a gun just so that it would be less traumatizing for you to watch, or just don't watch. I don’t know what you prefer. Will you do that for me?"
When I don’t see anything, he shakes his head. "You know, I might just kill you now that you know my plans because now that you're on their side,” he sneers menacingly. “You might just go ahead and give Thomas this information." I shake my head vigorously.
“I will do no such thing,” I promise him.
"Of course, just like you promised your dad that you were going to keep his little secret. You're good at keeping secrets," he accuses me.
These accusations sting like a bee, but I bottle the hurt because I know he's grieving.
I realize now that he’s getting me to be an accomplice to his murder. It's insane, and I want no part of it, but I nod.
This is what love does to you. It blinds you from any proper logic whatsoever, at least while that person is looking at you.
Now Jordan not only looks at me but spites me as well, and I would do anything to get his approval once again. I’ll do anything for him to smile at me. All I get is an approving nod, but I’ll take it for now. He tries to open the door to get out of the room, but I stopped him by putting my hand over his.
“Stay for the night,” I beg him. “It’s late.”
He doesn’t answer and leaves instead, but I wait to hear the front door slide open. Instead, his footsteps trail down into the lower hallway where his room is.
He’ll stay.
My bed is empty, and my head is full, but nevertheless, I’m a little more comforted than I was this morning.
I’ve made a little progress with Jordan, and I know he just needs time.
