Page 27 of Going to Hell
One actually appeared, but it wasn’t the polished steel knives I was used to. The leather wrapped handle was about the same length as the triangular blade, measuring nine inches total from end to tip. The beaten blade’s base was no more than two inches deep and the edge didn’t look very sharp. But it cut into the fruit with ease. From the corner of my eye, I saw C’adon shiver as I quartered the fruit.
“She always favors the knife.” His words were rough and tormented.
And very disturbing. I didn’t favor any weapon.
Setting the blade aside, I picked up a quarter of the fruit and bit into the tender white flesh. It vaguely reminded me of a kiwi with all the seeds but only had a hint of sweetness and none of the tartness. Peeling back the pink rind, I consumed my treat with enough enthusiasm that C’adon quieted.
While the fruit was good, it wouldn’t keep me full for long. I tried to think of an obvious way to imply I wanted more without it looking like I was communicating with him. Since he watched everything I did and guessed what I needed based on how I acted, it shouldn’t be too hard. I just needed to show I wanted more.
As soon as I finished the fruit, I lifted the plate and looked under it. Then I looked under the cup.
Come on, big guy. Feed the human,I silently thought as I pretended to search the table for more food.
“A new game. I like games,” he said with a sensual purr in his voice that almost had me leaving the table.
The piece of bread that appeared kept me in my seat. I made a sad face at it, dramatically sighed, and picked it up.
He chuckled in front of me.
“Oh, I like this game.”
The bread disappeared from my hand, and I pouted for a half-second. The sudden manifestation of a pig’s head with an apple in its mouth evoked a far different reaction.
I opened my mouth in a silent scream and flailed to get away from its sunken, shriveled eyes. My knee hit the table, tipping it as the stool clattered to the floor. I landed on my ass but sprang to my feet and spun away from the horrific scene.
The need to run spurred me to move, and I scrambled for the door.
“No,” C’adon moaned before I reached it. “Play again. I will learn the rules. Forgive me.”
It was his desperate pleading that broke through my revulsion and made my hand hesitate on the latch. Leaning my forehead against the wood, I tried to think rationally.
The pig head had been beyond disgusting, and I couldn’t unsee its cooked, withered eyes. While its abrupt appearance had felt like a scare tactic, that didn’t make sense. Why would C’adon want to scare me now when he’d chased away the monsters that did that with ease? No, the head hadn’t been more than a misguided attempt to feed me. I was sure of it.
C’adon thought this was a game and that he’d chosen wrong. If I left now, he would go back to bread and water, the option I’d liked before his failed attempt. Sure, the simple meal was filling, but I needed more than bread and water to live. If I stayed and let him try again, he might give me something other than bread. Or it might be more gross stuff.
A shudder ran through me at the possibility of what he might put on my plate next. Yet despite that, I turned. Instead of seeing the floor, the view of C’adon’s impressively defined lower abs consumed my vision.
“She stays,” he breathed. “I fail her again and again; yet, she stays when she could leave. I will gladly surrender payment for another chance. Anything to keep her company for another moment. I hate the silence.”
I lifted my gaze enough to stare at his bare chest mere inches from my nose, and thought I understood what he meant just then.
Any company was better than no company in Hell. Even the company of an imaginary friend or a figment of torment. Or whatever he considered me. I felt the same way about him. His instability and food choices scared the crap out of me, but I wouldn’t survive without him.
Gods, I thought with stunned realization,I need him.
Acknowledging that was like a blow to my middle, and I leaned my forehead against his sternum for support. The simple contact barely scratched the surface of the comfort I craved at that moment. More than anything, I wanted a hug and assurances that I would get out of Hell alive.
Above me, C’adon groaned, and a gentle weight settled on the back of my head.
His hand. He was touching me.
Panic bloomed.
“I never want this dream to end,” he said softly, his fingers lightly stroking down my hair.
An exhale of disbelief escaped me. He was touching me and still thought I was an illusion? Exactly how crazy was the guy that he couldn’t accept the truth of reality? And how screwed was I that I needed him to survive?
A shiver of fear rolled through me.
