Page 7 of Hurt to Love
No shit, Sherlock, and I ain’t about to break that vow with you.
“That’s okay though,” he carried on. “Most people talk shit anyway. Especially the Cunty brothers.”
I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from hitting my hairline. This guy had some big balls. It was a good job he’d closed the door. I doubted the brothers would let that one go.
“Maybetheyshould be more fluent in silence. I swear to God, I could eat alphabet soup and shit out more profound statements than the ones they make.”
I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get me to relax. Fool me into thinking he was on my side. I was no one’s fool.
“You know, they’re living proof that God has a sense of humour.” He chuckled at his own joke, but I stood still, frozen in the middle of the room.
“I’m sorry. I try not to laugh at my own jokes, but it is common knowledge around here that I am hilarious.” He took a few steps towards me as he spoke, and I moved backwards. The backs of my knees hit a bed, but I didn’t sit down. I stood firm, strong.
“Take a load off. Sit on the bed.” He sighed and ran his hands over his face, and in that instant, the cocky façade he painted on so well fell away.
“Look, I’m not interested in anything… sexual. I just want to talk. I thought maybe you needed a get out of jail free card. Let’s face it, that room back there is your idea of hell, isn’t it? You don’t want to be there.”
I didn’t know whether to nod. Did the brothers have secret cameras in here? Was I being tested?
“I won’t say a word to those assholes out there,” he said, as if he’d read my mind, and he nodded at the door. “Think of this as an hour or so of respite. Who knows, maybe I can help you?”
A flicker of hope sparked in my soul, but as soon as it ignited, it was doused out with his next statement.
“Or we could help each other.”
And there it was. He wanted something from me. Men like him always did. He must’ve sensed my immediate hesitation, because he started to back track.
“Not that I expect anything from you.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Like I said, I’m just here to give you a free pass. There’s nothing going on in there that a nice girl like you needs to bear witness to, am I right? No pressure here. I’m just a good guy in the wrong place at the right time. See me as a new friend. You look like you could use one of those right about now.”
I didn’t need friends. Friends let you down, friends betrayed you. Friends were only too happy to throw you under the bus and watch you burn so they didn’t have to. I didn’t need any friends.
“Okay…” He rubbed his hands together and rolled his eyes, looking exasperated and bored already. Then he took a deep breath, smiled and jumped onto the bed. He’d gone from mock sincerity, to bored, to playful in a matter of seconds. I just couldn’t get a read on this guy.
“Come on, sit next to me. From what they tell me, you might bite, but I can assure you, I don’t.”
He lay back with his head resting on the steel frame of the bed, and his arms crossed behind his head. His legs were outstretched, and one ankle was crossed over the other. He looked way too relaxed, considering where we were.
Against my better judgement, I slid onto the bed and took the space next to him. But I didn’t stretch my legs out. I sat with my knees bent and kept my head down. I had a feeling this man was trying to coax me into something, and I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust myself to look at him either.
He huffed in annoyance at my unyielding body language and rolled onto his side to face me.
“I think we’ve got off to a bad start here. Let’s try again. Hi.” He held his hand out to me, and when he saw I wouldn’t take it, he mimicked shaking hands with me in mid-air, like a crazy person. “I’m Cillian, but you can call me Cill, if you ever speak that is. I’m a good guy, not like some of these fuckers here tonight. Yes… okay, I know I’m in a sex club and I know I came into that dungeon willingly, but that’s where the similarities end between me and your fucked up hosts out there. I prefer my women to be more… pliant. Call me cynical, but something tells me you’re as far from pliant as they come.”
I huffed in agreement, despite myself, and he chuckled.
“You hate them as much as I do, you just can’t say it, can you? Why don’t you speak?”
I turned to face him now, and rolled my eyes. Did he really think I was that stupid? That I’d open up to him and answer?
“I get it, it’s a control thing.” He shrugged.
Spot on, mate.
“It’s the one thing they can’t take from you, isn’t it? Your voice?”
I don’t know why, but I nodded. Damn my idiotic reflexes.
“You do know they won’t give up, don’t you? If they want to make you talk, they will. Or they’ll find a way to take it from you permanently.”
