Page 219 of Poison Aches

Slowly, with trepidation and fear, I look up at the huge, perfectly still and immovable god sitting quietly in the corner of the room.

He looks so powerful, so sexy, my mouth waters but more than that, the aura of intense danger that I always guessed at, is now front and center.

He’s no longer hiding like he did all the years we grew up in Westbrook Blues—sans the years I left.

Although he’s seated right now, and looks calm, the charge in the air that raises the small hairs at the back of my neck indicatesthat this man is not like your average, run-of-the-mill, brooding types.

He’s beyond that.

And I think I’ve always known that.

“You killed him.”

For the first time, it’s not a question from me, but a statement of fact.

Emmett watches me, as if searching for something, measuring my state of mind or lack thereof.

“I did.”

Bursts of gasps escape my lips.

I know Jackson tried to harm me in the most horrible way, but he also died in the most brutal way possible.

“You whacked his head against the linoleum floors until it cracked.”

“Yes.”

I stare at him. He holds my stare, cold, deep green clashing against drowning, bewildered brown.

“You chopped his hands off… right after you gouged out his eyes with a rusty spoon.”

“Of course.”

Of course.As if it’s a rite of passage, the obvious thing to do.

A shiver powers through me until I’m a trembling mess in his bed.

Emmett watches me steadily, and I’m pretty sure he’s aware that I’m now visibly shaking.

Unable to take his all-knowing gaze anymore, I break away and stare down at the sheets pooled around my waist, suddenly feeling so cold.

“Are you now afraid of me, Angel?” he questions, slowly rising from his stool.

He stalks over to me, in perfect strides like a looming, dangerous god descending upon the world he owns and can destroy at any time.

He makes his way right to me.

Before I can breathe, he’s got a knee up on the high bed, then he wraps a powerful, muscular arm around my waist and hoists me clear across the bed until I’m right under him, caged in by both his body in front of me and his arms on either side of me.

There’s no hope of escape.

Not when he’s looking down at me with so much anger blazing in his eyes.

A frisson of something potent that I refuse to identify zaps through my veins as Emmett crowds me in.

He leans down so close to my face. I can feel his hot chest over me and if I just tilt a bit, the tip of his nose will be touching mine.

Other than that, there isn’t any other contact between us.

---