Page 87 of Cain
She turns to glance at Landon like she might get an apology. That’s funny. He doesn’t apologize, and I don’t ask him to.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asks, her upper lip hooking up in disgust.
“He can be a bit of a caveman.”
She swallows hard, still trying to hold on to her attitude. “You think you can just drag people into alleys and threaten them?”
I glance back at Landon. He shrugs and rolls his eyes like he’s bored. He is.
“You sent the cops to my door. I thought I’d return the courtesy.”
She crosses her arms. “You were talking to her the same day. Do you honestly want me to believe it’s just a coincidence?”
“You think I give a fuck what you believe?” I step closer and lean in. The smell of her cheap perfume hits my nose. “You sent pigs to my door like you’ve got any idea what you’re dealing with.” I touch the ends of herloose and unruly hair. “And now look at you. Out here, all alone with me.”
Her nostrils flare. “You’re a psychopath.”
I need to break her. I need to make her confess it, and since I can’t touch her ‘cause she’s a helpless woman, I need to push her in other ways.
“Let’s drop the fake concern. You didn’t send cops to help her.”
I take a slow step closer. The way she tries to stay in place is amusing.
“You sent them because you saw her smile at me.”
Another step.
“She was finally smiling. For the first time since you met her.”
Another.
“She was always the better one. The one to be offered the photoshoots.”
“I was trying to help,” she snaps, but her voice is shaking now.
“She’s the pretty one. The girl who came from abroad, stealing your thunder.”
I halt right in front of her, towering over her.
“And you fucking hated that,” I add. “All that work. Starving yourself. Burning your face off with bleach. Faking every smile like your life depended on it. And still, nobody fucking saw you. They sawher.Every single time.”
“Shut up!”
“No. You shut up and listen,” I growl. “I’ve seen her. Do you know what she did when the jobs came in?When the cameras begged for her?” I lean down until my mouth is almost against her ear. “She looked bored.”
She shudders, and I slowly pull back.
“Meanwhile, you were backstage biting your tongue, trying not to scream every time they pointed at her like you weren’t standing right there.”
She shakes her head frantically as tears start pooling her eyes.
“Don’t lie to me,” I say solemnly. “You didn’t want her to be found. You wanted her gone.”
Her chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly. Still trying to pretend she’s the good one in the story.
“You saw your chance. Cops asking questions. Reporters sniffing around. Finally, it was you they came to. You got to wear her skin for a day. You got to matter.”
“That’s not?—”
