Page 203 of Poison Aches

Dread fills my bones.

I think in just these last few days, I’ve started to see the real side of Emmett I’ve been ignoring and I’m not entirely sure I like it.

When he finally speaks, I almost faint.

“You’re quite the thing, aren’t you?” he says softly, almost gently, as if he’s talking to a child.

I quickly look up.

That voice is almost comforting but one look into his deep gaze tells me everything I need to know. He’s not being friendly right now.

“Don’t get me wrong…” I whisper. “I came here because?—"

“Because of the very thing I warned you about happened.”

I wince.

He’s right. He did warn me and he did tell me that I’d come looking for him. Angrily and naively, I denied it, but here I am.

“I know what you must think of me,” I mumble.

He’s quiet for a bit and then he takes a step closer again, slowly decreasing the distance between predator and prey.

“Trust me, Angel, you really don’t want to know what goes on in my mind when it comes to you.”

His words make me tremble, and I bet he can see it too.

“Let’s talk about?—"

“Yes, let’s finally talk about how your expectations and fantasies have blown up in your face,” he murmurs softly. “Haven’t I taught you better?”

I gasp. “That’s not fair.”

“What is? Me reminding a dumb, curious little girl to notice the pattern of reality so she can stay safe or you not listening to me anyway, despite my very saintly efforts of keeping you alive?”

In this moment, I hate him. I hate him so bad that I can’t breathe.

“But then again, you’ve always been a walking contradiction.”

“What do you mean?” I say firmly, desperately trying to hold on to my air of indifference… my plan when I left Westbrook Blues was never to see this man and if I ever did, I wouldn’t let him see me sweat.

“Your entire life, you’ve been boxed in. Your grandmother, bless her heart, has always advised you not to seek out evil.”

A chill runs down my spine as Emmett surrounds me.

“Your brother, well, he feeds you just enough to keep you slightly calm, but not so much that it might lead you to your demise.”

He reaches for me then. With a large, strong and warm hand he palms the side of my face.

In a daze, I helplessly watch as his finger follows the trail of my tears. Gently, delicately… leaving a lick of fire in its wake.

He watches me, watching every minute play of emotion in my eyes.

When I realize that, I break contact and look away but that must be the wrong move because immediately, he lifts my chin with slender fingers, forcing our eyes to connect.

“The thing about you is, even with all the warnings your real family have given you, you still disregard their advice whenever you feel like you’re about to suffocate. That act of rebellion alone has made me want one thing when it comes to you. As a matter of fact, I crave it and after all these years of me letting you live your life, you’ve forced my hand to act.”

Forced his hand? Let me live?

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