Page 20 of Worth the Ruin
“On the road, mostly. We tried to settle into more permanent places a handful of times, but never found anywhere truly safe until we ended up there.”
“And when you saywe?”
I sigh and prepare for the stab of pain that’s coming.
“Me and Jonah. I’ve known him for over half my life. We were together long before the world went to shit, and have been together every step of the way since then.” My eyes water so I turn away to pretend to study the art on the wall again. Over my shoulder, I continue, “We joined another larger group a few years after it all started, and what was left of us ended up at The Cove eventually.” Anger begins to burn, temporarily chasing away the sorrow. I turn and glare at him.
“And now I’m here, to be tortured via twenty questions, apparently. I personally prefer waterboarding or bamboo shoots under the fingernails. Really has that wow factor, ya know?”
“An expert in torture, are you?” he smirks.Oh, you have no idea. I ignore that and wave him on, taking another drink while I wait for the next question. “How’d you get to be so knowledgeable about security?”
Again, I give a half truth. “Married to a Special Forces guy. Picked up a few things over the years. Pillow talk and all that.” Mitchhadbeen Special Forces, but that isn’t where I learned most of what I know.
“Is that how you became the alleged crack shot then?”
“No alleged about it, counselor,” I say with absolute confidence. He merely keeps studying me in that unnerving way, so I continue scoping out the place since he hasn’t tried to stop me, moving towards the bookshelves.
“See anything of interest?” he asks.
“Well, I expected to find the full library of Dr. Seuss, but alas, I’m disappointed.” He chuckles low at that. Really, I’m desperate to borrow half his titles. Some are old favorites that I haven’t thought about in years, others I wanted to read but never got the chance to. Some just look cool or sound interesting. He’s got a crazy mix of genres too: classics, historical and military texts, epic fantasies and space operas. He even has three entire shelves dedicated to graphic novels and comic books and?—
Click.
I whirl.
“Seriously? FOS?Fortress of Solitude??”
He smiles a little crookedly and looks…adorable? Fuck me. So, add nerd to the profile. Ialmostsmile. I’d been to Comicon on multiple occasions, even dressed as Supergirl a time or two, come to think of it. Then I want to scowl. I don’t like that I have things in common with Traeger. I don’t like that these bits of information make me want to smile or laugh or get into heated debates about comic legends. I don’t like thinking that,in another world, we might actually…get along? Like each other? Fuck that.
“What about family?” he asks next.Alright, that’s enough of that.
“Enough about me,” I snap.
“Ask away,” he says in invitation, unperturbed and raising his glass to his lips once more.
“I don’t need to ask anything. I told you, I already know enough.” It’s only a half-truth now that I’ve been in this room, but I still have mostly him pegged. He gets that challenging look in his eyes again.
“Then, again, I invite you to enlighten me, Melody.” The way he says my name…I fight a shiver.God, what is wrong with me?I’m going to blame it all on emotional distress. The past few days have been a whirlwind and a mindfuck and my mind and body are reacting in weird ways. That’s all.
“Late thirties to early forties. From southern Georgia most likely, not the low country though. Highly educated. At least semi-fluent in Italian. Athletic. Right-handed.” His face remains impassive as I speak save a slight narrowing of his eyes. “You were married, but she’s gone, maybe has been since before the end. You feel guilty about something to do with her. You worked with kids, maybe a teacher or a coach, but you didn’t have any yourself.”
“And how would you know that?” he finally asks, interrupting my assessment, his green eyes stirring with…something. Interest? Annoyance? Anger? I hate that I can’t read him clearly. He can guard his thoughts and expressions much better than most and that in and of itself intrigues me. Was he just naturally that way? Had he been taught? Had circumstances demanded it?
Before I can stop myself, I say, “Parents who have lost children have a look in their eye, a look that never goes away.You don’t have it.” That’s one thought that can’t be hidden, no matter how hard you try or how well you’re trained. It’s a permanent scar that only certain people know how to recognize—the ones who have identical ones. He studies me too intently at that, so I quickly continue on. The next bit is a lie, but I say it anyway, wanting to see his reaction.
“You’re ruthless, savage, and sadistic. You enjoy the power you hold and the pain you inflict to keep it, maybe even get off on it.”
He clenches his jaw before he stands and stalks forward, eyes going dark. I remain still as he comes closer and closer. I crane my head upward to meet his gaze when he’s only a foot away. He stares down at me, cold menace radiating from him. Real, or forced after my assessment? Right now, he looks every bit the heartless bastard who would stick someone’s head on a pike or carve out their heart. I can feel the heat from his body seeping into mine, and again, my own body reacts to his nearness despite the small tendril of fear working its way up my spine. Again, I curse it.
His gaze bores into mine and it takes everything in me not to look away at the intensity of his eyes.
“Is that what you really think?” he asks quietly, voice gone low and rough. I swallow hard. Half from fear, half from…something else, but I don’t answer. His lips curl up on one side. This time isn’t the playful half-smile he flashed earlier. This one is cold and calculated and sharp as a blade. How easily he slips in and out of the different personas. The question is, which one is the real thing, and which is the mask?
“I think that’s enough for tonight, Melody.”
I blink and back away, head spinning, and nod. I quickly make my way out of the room, leaving my glass on the dining table as I go. The guards outside give me inquisitive looks, but I don’t pay them much attention, rushing inside my own room asfast as I can. I lean my back against the door after I close it, not quite understanding what in the hell had just happened or where I stand on the entire situation.
Austin Traeger…confounds me, and that’s not something I’m used to. I replay every single second, trying to figure him out, and heat spreads through my chest when I think about settling over top of him. I tried to tell myself that I hadn’t actually wanted him, that I’d just assumed being his plaything was what was expected of me, so I was doing what I had to…but when I’d glanced down at his lips, a part of mehadwanted.
