Page 33 of Moth
“Payments?” I frown, my nostrils flaring in anger. “I paid, remember? That’s what you said—”
“You paid offthatdebt,” he corrects, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re that naïve to think he won’t rack up more?” He lowers his gaze, raking me over. “Especially when he has such an eager little bunny to do his bidding.”
I cringe at the assessment, but I don’t argue. “How do I pay?”
“With money. He’ll give it to you, and you bring it to me,” he says as though it’s obvious. “Unless you want to offer up something else…?” His eyes deliberately linger over my chest, and he chuckles when I cross my arms, blocking his view.
“I’m leaving.” I turn for the door, shoving it open.
“Hop away, bunny,” he taunts. “The view from the back is just as nice as the one from the front.”
I freeze mid-step over the threshold, preventing the door from fully closing.
“What now?” he prompts, his tone cutting. “If you have something to say, rabbit, then don’t be shy.”
“Fine. You mock my sexuality like it’s a game,” I hiss as I turn to face him. “Like I’m some stupid prude. Like it’s funny. But yesterday? I wasn’t the one who ran away, was I?”
He blinks, his jaw tensing. Something indecipherable darkens his gaze and hardens his expression. “Ran away?” he echoes softly. “Or refused to fall for your little trick?”
“Trick?” I’m so confused by the word choice that I step forward, entering the shop fully. “What are you even talking about?”
“I’m talking aboutyou, bunny.” He crosses his arms, eyeing me with a scoff. Real anger seeps into his voice, deepening the gruff baritone. “Letting me think you’d want it. Get carried away. All so you could turn around and cry assault the moment your boyfriend noticed a pretty little hair out of place? I’m not that fucking desperate for ass. I’m not some toy you can play with, either.”
I hear myself laugh, and I barely recognize the strangled, mocking sound. “You thought I was the one playing games? So all that crap about feeling? Bullshit! You came after me, remember? Though you’re right. Someone like me couldneverwant someone like you.” My lips sting. I never talk like this. Ever. No one else has ever pushed me to this point. “This is all just a game to you, but you don’t even have it in you to back up your own stupid words. You wanted me to feel? Well, the only thing Ifeelfor you is pity.”
He should take offense to that and puff up with anger, but he doesn’t. His brow furrows instead, an eyebrow arching as if he can’t believe the suspicion unfurling in his own head. It’s too incredulous that he has to utter it out loud. “You wanted to fuck methatbadly, bunny?”
I pivot on my heel as my cheeks burn. My hand fumbles for the door, yanking it open.
This time, his steps echo like a gunshot, gaining on me by the second. “Answer the fucking question.”
As I stagger out of the shop, my lips part before I can stop them. “I guess you’ll never find out.”
I lunge, practically jogging across the street to get away. When I look back, he’s watching me from the entrance of his shop, his gaze unreadable.
But at least he isn’t smiling.
He isn’t laughing, either—but my victory is short-lived. He’s still watching when I turn away and head down the street. With every step, I feel his gaze on the back of my neck.
And it lingers there during the entire frantic trip to my apartment.
