He called me an animal.
Whatever attraction or pride I thought I’d seen in his gaze was gone now we’d finally been honest.
Elder didn’t move.
The gentle rustle of his black t-shirt was the only noise as he breathed deep and evenly, never taking his eyes off me. “What were you thinking about to warrant wasting your food? Food, I may add, that should be in your stomach to replace everything you’ve lost from being with him.”
I dared to look up, staring, staring at the mess I’d made.
I couldn’t make myself care what would come next. I couldn’t bring myself to bow in apology or beg in forgiveness. The anger that I’d kept locked up so damn tight for years poured from the vault where I’d banished it. The foreign tightness—the strange daredevil baring its teeth inside me—it all embraced me as if to say ‘please never forget again.’
Never let yourself merely exist.
Fight.
Or die.
No more surviving.
No more accepting.
My fingers dug into my palm as my fists squeezed—even my broken hand did its best to curl with rage at how long I’d lived in hell and how much I hated myself for letting it continue.
Why didn’t I kill myself sooner? Why didn’t I kill him sooner?
Because he took every option away!
You tried, remember?
Time already clouded the past, making it seem like I had other options than the truth. It shattered me because it made me even weaker when I’d believed I’d been so strong.
There was nothing you could do.
But now, now it is different, and you will not bow to another.
Not again.
If Elder expected me to serve him, fuck him, and be at his beck and call. I would jump overboard tonight. Not because I had nothing left to give but because I was finally brave enough to say no.
Even if it meant saying no to any more tomorrows or yesterdays.
No more!
Elder murmured, “What’s going on inside that mind of yours?”
I snarled.
He stiffened. “You look as if you want to go back and kill him all over again.” He cocked his head, inspecting my every inhale, exhale, and twitch. “Are you angry that I came back for you? Do you wish I hadn’t, so you could’ve ended your life, rather than face something new?”
You don’t know me.
Get out of my damn head!
“So that’s what this is about. You’re angry.”
I wanted to tear out his eyes at how condescending he made it sound. I was more than just angry. I was rage itself. I was the harbinger of vehemence.
You think you can scare and belittle me?
Wrong.
I’m done with these parlour tricks.
He smiled coldly, no kindness left in his face. “Anger is expected after what you’ve lived through.” He leaned forward, whip sharp and brutal. “But if you think for one fucking moment you can take it out on me, you’ll be severely disappointed.”
My chest rose and fell as I breathed harder than I had in years. My bruised ribs bleated with agony.
“If I didn’t recognise that fire in your gaze, I would think you missed that godforsaken hellhole.”
I froze.
You think I liked being beaten?
You think I enjoyed being a slave?
Elder pushed his fork with his index finger, sedate and sly. “You knew the rules there. You knew everything there was to know about the bastard who called himself Master. You knew what to expect and when.”
His black eyes locked me against the hard chair. “You miss predictability even if that predictability would’ve killed you, either by his hand or yours.”
Silence fell, littered with secrets.
He didn’t speak for a few seconds. Running his hand through thick blue-black hair, he whispered, “You pulled the trigger. I watched you take his life happily. You threw off those invisible chains even while you bled out from the wound he inflicted.” His voice dropped to a murmur, “But that wasn’t the moment you ended predictability, Pimlico. You did that before becoming a murderer.”
I sucked in a breath as he stroked his lips with feather-soft fingers. “You did that the moment you kissed me back.”
My tongue twinged as I swallowed hard.
“You changed your future the moment you let me into your bed.”
I didn’t let you.
I had no choice.
Licking his bottom lip, Elder smiled coldly. “I feel you trying to read me, silent mouse. I feel you probing me, watching me; don’t think I don’t. You want—no, you need—to know what I’m going to do to you. Your questions are so fucking loud they’re making me deaf.”
Standing, he pushed away from the table and paced, looking between me and the spilled soup. “But you won’t learn who I am until you give me what I want in return.”
Determination suddenly etched his face as he stalked toward a sideboard holding a massive candelabra with eight tapered candles and wrenched open a drawer.
Two seconds later, he slammed down a matching notepad and pen. Pushing aside my bowl, he stabbed his fingers at the fresh paper. “Speak to me.”
I cringed but didn’t hunch. I couldn’t keep track of my thoughts. Yesterday, I’d drowned in gratefulness for what he’d done for me. Today, I suffocated in suspicion of his true agenda. And anger. So. Much. Anger. Rage licked me faster and faster, turning my thoughts to ash.
“Talk to me, Pimlico. That’s the least you owe me for what I’ve done for you.”