Page 67 of Mara
Mara.
Looking at me like she didn’t know whether to punch me or throw up. Maybe both.
I leaned back in my chair, chains rattling on purpose, just to watch her flinch. “Well, well, well,” I drawled, cocking my head, smirk tugging at my lips. “Didn’t think they’d let me have visitors. Or did you sneak your pretty little ass in here just for me?”
Her eyes burned, sharp as fuck, but I saw it. The way she hesitated. The way her hands clenched into fists. Oh, Little Reaper, she was so fucking easy to read.
“They told me why you’re here,” she bit out.
Her voice? Like a goddamn knife. Like she wanted to cut me with it.
Cute.
“What you did.”
What I did?
I laughed, low and slow, tilting my head. “And you believe those mother fuckers? Can’t exactly kill someone when I myself was being sliced by a?—”
“Shut up.” She cut me off, her jaw clenched so tight I thought her teeth might snap.
Fuck, she was gorgeous when she was mad. I wanted to reach out, fist my hand in her hair, make her say my name like she meant it.
“Tell me the truth, Jinx.” Her voice cracked just enough to make something twist in my gut.
Truth. That was a funny fucking word.
I leaned in, eyes locked on hers, voice dropping just enough to make her breath hitch. “Would you even fucking believe me if I did?”
She didn’t answer. But she didn’t look away either.
“You left me,” she whispered, and that…that…I fucking felt.
Something ugly, something dark, coiled in my chest. I smiled, slow and sharp, shaking my head.
“Left you?” I echoed, chuckling under my breath. “No, Nirvana. I fucking saved you.”
She didn’t understand. Not yet.
I yanked at the chains, metal clanking, smirk curling back onto my lips. “Now the real fucking question is…what the hell are you gonna do about it?”
I could see the way she looked at me, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run or fall into the madness I offered—the fear in her eyes.
It’s intoxicating.
The way her breath caught, the way her pulse quickened. I could feel it all, and it stirred something in me. Something dangerous. Something fucking wild.
I could see it all. The hesitation, the confusion, the way she looked at me like she was wondering if I was really as dangerous as I seemed to be.
She doesn’t know that I am, that I always have been. But what’s worse is the way she seems to be drawn in despite herself, like she can’t help but be pulled to the edge of the abyss that I am.
I didn’t give her a chance to think. I didn’t let her decide. One moment, she was sitting across the table from me, my chains a symbol of the barrier between us: patient and nurse.
I smiled, watching the dim light cast shadows on her face. I yanked her forward, pulling her toward me with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs. She barely had time to gasp before I slammed my mouth against hers.
She was frozen for a moment, eyes wide in shock.
Maybe it’s the audacity of it, or maybe she wasn’t expecting this side of me in here. The side that didn’t wait for permission didn’t ask for consent.
