Page 99 of The Wicked
“So you’re not going to say anything… maybe something along the lines of,you’re right, I shouldn’t have shot the kid?”
I put in the fourth stitch, trying to block out her voice.
“Listen… I never apologize to people, okay? So, this is kind of a big deal for me, being the bigger person, because I’m petty as fuck.”
I put in the second-to-last stitch, concentrating.
“Oh, come on, Elio, I’m trying here.”
“I have no use for your apology,” I stated, my tone flat.
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say to someone who apologizes to you.”
“I have no reason to acknowledge your courtesy.”
“Okay, Your Highness.”
The ick in my stomach had me losing focus for a second, and she flinched at a wrong movement from me.
My gaze snapped to hers. “Fucking stay still, Sport.”
Her lips curved upward, drawing my gaze to them. “I’m perfectly still,” she said, and I looked away, back to her arm.
My blank look was a failure because I couldn’t help a frown from drawing my brows together.
Her stare made me uncomfortable, as always. Not that I didn’t like it when people looked at me, she just had this—thing where she lured the victim of her stare to reciprocate the action.
It was unnerving.
Her eyes… her freckles… her face. Terrifyingly sinful.
I avoided sins. Especially the ones woven into the body of a pretty face.
“For real, today has been terrible. I was legit shocked from direct electricity, and then your actions—but with all that, I’m still trying to salvage this little partnership we’ve developed—”
“Don’t delude yourself.”
“Okay… friendship?”
“We are not friends.”
“Frenemies?”
“That’s not a real word.”
“Enemies, then?”
“If I considered you an enemy, you’d be dead.”
“Okay… what do you consider me—”
“Nothing.”
I finished the stitching, dropped the materials by the sink, and removed the gloves.
“Nothing?” she asked, doing that thing with her voice, the one that compelled attention.
I fell for it… again. Pausing before looking back at her.
