Page 26 of Dangerous Silence
And I never wanted to give up the power that controlling someone’s life gave me.
Demi tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Are you saying you don’t want to change, then?”
I wasn’t saying anything. I grabbed the container, shoving it back into the cage. “Would you, please,” I said, raising my voice, “eat the fucking soup so I can leave?”
She stared at me, her sleet eyes daring. She had seen me kill multiple people, knew that I wasn’t afraid of harming her too. Still, she leaned into the cage, closer to me, her expression full of passion.
“I’m not eating. If you want to keep me ‘alive,’ like you promised my dad, then you need to let me go.”
I sighed. Then I took the soup. Put it on the table. She held her breath, her eyelids fluttering as she realized that I didn’t care. If she wanted to starve herself to death, then, by all means, be my guest. It wouldn’t be the first time I had watched someone starve.
I lifted the wooden slats. Locked them into place. Went to the door.
But something stopped me. I turned back, looking at that wooden box. Rage filled me to the brim. I had this woman, a young, intriguing, aggravating-as-hell woman, who wouldn’t eat a single bite of food to survive. A woman who thought she was better than the life she had.
I stomped back to the box, taking a spoonful of soup from the container and sliding it through the peephole. Most of it would fall, but some of it might catch her.
“Eat the soup,” I said. “Lick it off the bars.”
“I’m not eating—”
I grabbed the key and unlocked the cage again, yanking the bars open from the top, then grabbed the container of soup off of the floor and shoved it onto her face, streaking her skin with red.
“Are you too good to eat food from me?” I growled. I pulled her against me, wrapping her in my arms, swallowing her body with mine. “Too good to take food from someone who should be rotting in jail.” I wrenched her arms together with one hand, then used my other hand to take the spoon and hold it on her cheek. “Understand this, Demi. You are the one rotting in a cell. The only reason you’re alive is because I haven’t killed you yet.”
Finally, her mouth opened, perhaps to resist me, to fight back, but I shoved the soup in there. It was cold now, but I held her chin shut, waited until she swallowed. She glared at me, her eyes like a silver lake, waiting for the moment to strike.
If I tried to feed her, tried to keep her alive, did it matter if she chose to die? Was that still keeping my promise? But a promise to a dead man didn’t matter. So why did I want her to eat?
Because she looked so damned faint that she was on the verge of collapse. I shoved another spoonful in her mouth, but she closed her teeth, so I smeared the red liquid on her face, and then slapped her.
“Open your fucking mouth.”
Finally, she relented. I put in as much as I could, then made sure she swallowed. Another spoonful. Then another. Until all of it was gone and her stomach stopped growling. She stared at me the entire time, peering up at my dark eyes, trying to read my soul. But there was nothing there, and soon, she’d understand that. Something exchanged between us then, like a shift in electricity; we finally understood each other. As much as I hated it,no,I did not want to kill Demi. But I needed her to be under my control.
“If you learn anything from me, let it be this,” I said into her ear as she took the last gulp. Her throat moved in a circular motion, swallowing steadily. “Your dad was as evil as me,” I said. “Worse.” He may not have been as creative as I was, but he had trained a seven-year-old to be a killer. There were few things that would ruin a life more than that.
Demi didn’t budge. I could tell she didn’t believe me. It was beautiful, in a way. She was confident in her world.
Perhaps it would take showing her what I meant. Giving her a chance to see it with her own eyes. I couldn’t bring back Shep, but I could show Demi exactly what he had taught me. And maybe then, I would rest easy by sending her back to her father.
But first, there was a wedding to go to.
CHAPTER 8
Demi
I stared at myself in the mirror. Axe’s mother had left her curling iron and blow dryer for me. The hair dye had bled on her rose embroidered towels, just like I had warned Axe, but he didn’t care and claimed that his mother wouldn’t either. Axe had brought my bags from his apartment, but I hadn’t packed anything that would be appropriate for a small wedding. Of course, Axe had taken care of that. This time, the dress Maddie had bought for me was light and whimsical. Yellow with pink flowers near the hem. She must have thought I was a sunny gal. Makeup rimmed my eyes, courtesy of Maddie too, and though I felt better, I still didn’t feel like myself.
A floral print covered the wall, a little old-fashioned and stuffy. Two porcelain dishes sat on the edge of the sink with rose-shaped soaps. A stack of hand towels, all embroidered with that same, delicate rose, were hung up and pressed, as if they had never been used. His mother must have really liked her flowers. There was a window in the corner with wooden blinds, but Axe had shown me the alarm there.
One movement, he had said,That’s all it takes. Then he gently pushed the device, and a piercing noise interrupted us. He stopped it.
He was standing outside of the bathroom, waiting for me. My best bet was to try and escape while we were at the wedding itself—if that’s where we were actually going.
I sighed, then headed to the door. When I opened it, Axe was leaning against the opposite wall. His hair was styled, a navy blue suit tailored to his body with a dark red tie. The same outfit he had worn to my father’s funeral. He straightened the knot, then looked at me, taking me in from my toes to my head. His expression stayed drawn.
“You use the same suit for funerals and weddings?” I asked. He gestured to the side, and we walked out of the house. “Are you that hard for money? Why don’t you just steal from the people you kill?”
