Page 69 of Bones
He stared me down. “You wanna know what I think?”
“No.”
He continued anyway, "I think you let me in just a little bit, and now you're pushing me away ’cause you're scared."
“You’re wrong.”
“I don’t believe you—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish.
“What? You think you’re special ’cause I saved your life and let you into my bed? Well, you’re not. Now leave me the fuck alone!”
In the silence, he stared at me, hurt and anger replacing the warm kindness I'd grown so used to seeing on his handsome face. I held his gaze, eyes blazing. Finally, he just stood and let himself out. I collapsed back onto my mattress and swallowed the bitter tears aching in my throat.
I don’t care,I repeated in my head like a magic spell from a storybook. Maybe if I said it enough times it’d come true.I don’t care.
* * *
It felt like I'd just closed my eyes when someone shook me roughly awake. I jolted, looking up to see Mac glaring down at me.
“Madame wants you,” he said.
Fuck.
I crawled out of bed, my stomach churning for more reasons than just being hungover as shit. Mac leaned against the exam table and waited as I washed my face, hoping the cold water would help. I waited on edge for him to say something about last night, but he didn’t say a word. I wasn’t sure what was worse.
When I was ready, he led the way, staying a few paces ahead of me as I tried to keep up. My anxiety grew with every step.
We went straight down the stairs back to that horrible room with the straw floor and I tried to steel myself. Madame stood inside with two of her guards. My stomach sank when I recognized the woman strapped to the chair. It was Mist, the soapmaker. She looked like she’d put up a fight, her face battered and bloody, but her eyes blazed angrily.
“Oh good, Bones, you’re just in time,” Madame purred. “Mist is being very uncooperative.”
I had to fight to keep from retching right there. The room reeked like blood and that sickly sugary scent. Mac closed the door behind him and stood in front of it. The suffocating feeling of being trapped did not help.
“Fuck you, bitch,” Mist spit at Madame.
Madame smiled. She drew that all-too-familiar knife and stalked around Mist, looking thoughtful.
“Where should we start, Bones?” she mused.
I stayed pale-faced and silent, but she didn't seem to care. Eventually, she stopped and brushed Mist's light hair away from her ear.
“Who gave you the order?” Madame asked in a low, deadly voice.
Mist just snarled at her. Madame grinned and then with one swift motion, she sliced Mist’s ear clean off.
Mist cried out and jerked as blood spurted. I took a step forward instinctively, horrified, but halted when Madame held out her hand for me to stop. Madame walked around to Mist's other side and pulled her hair back from her other ear.
“Who gave you the order?” she repeated.
Mist gasped in ragged breaths, but she still didn’t speak. I saw Madame move and closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see her slice off Mist’s other ear. The noise that came out of Mist’s mouth made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Bones.”
Madame's sharp voice forced my eyes open. She gave me a hard look as Mist sobbed through her teeth beside her, blood running down her neck.
"I want her to be able to hear me, but don't bother trying to make her look pretty," Madame ordered.
I moved forward woodenly and placed my hands on either side of Mist’s bloody head. I couldn’t meet her eyes, shame blazing through me like a fire. My healing stopped the blood and closed the wounds, but her ears were still gone.
