Page 156 of Famine

The Reaper takes my jaw, turning me to face him.

“What are you doing? Why have we stopped?” My eyes are darting over our surroundings.

“Look at me.”

I almost argue, but that would even be more suspicious.

I force my gaze to meet his.

“What?” I say obstinately.

Don’t see it. Don’t see what I’ve only now just realized.

His gaze narrows. “Little flower, I know something is wrong. You can tell me now, or I can figure it out on my own, but I promise you this: Iwillfigure it out.”

My stomach tumbles. If Famine is half as good at reading people’s minds as he is at dancing, or kissing, or oral, then he’s going to figure out real quick that despite our vow last night, thingshavechanged between us.

“I … am just not feeling well.”

“No,” he says simply.

Damn him.

“So now you think I’m a liar?” I accuse.

“Iknowyou’re a liar.” All at once, he releases my jaw. “But keep your thoughts to yourself. I’ll learn them soon enough.”

This new revelation sits like a stone in my stomach.

Falling for the horseman.

I don’t want to fall in love. Everyone I’ve loved has either died or hurt me andthendied. My parents, my aunt, even Elvita.

And then, of course, there was that one previous time I fell in love, and that whole thing went about as smoothly as the apocalypse.

Martim had just turned twenty when he met me. I had already been at the bordello for a couple years, but in many ways I was still young and naïve when I first met the rancher.

He was all gangly limbs, but he had kind eyes and a gentle smile, and he never saw me as just some floozy to stick his dick in. His buddies were the ones who paid for our first night together, but after that he came back for himself.

The other girls had warned me not to fall for clients. So many of them had been burned in the past by men who wanted free sex or who had savior complexes. But naturally, I thought I was different, and I thought Martim was different, too.

Short story: he wasn’t.

When his parents learned that he loved me, they threatened to disown him. No family, no ranch, no carefully crafted future that he had prepared his entire life for. That’s what he stood to lose. He had tears in his eyes when he told me. I think he assumed I would understand.

The only thing I understood was that the world loves to kick you when you’re down.

Less than a year later, Martim married arespectablewoman. And just when I thought my broken heart had mended itself, it broke all over again.

Not too long after the wedding, Martim tried to visit me at the bordello, but not for all the money in the world would I let him touch me again, and he didn’t seem to want to sleep with anyone else at The Painted Angel. So that was that.

The pain that used to accompany Martim’s memory is only a shadow of its former self. Unfortunately, there’s a new emotion I feel—panic.

I don’t want to be in love again. And with the Reaper of all people.

“Iwillfigure it out.” Famine’s breath tickles my ear.

Holy hell.

---