Page 22 of Little Blue

My thoughts fracture like fine china, cracking under pressure.

“This is my home, and now it is yours.”

“No.”

He continues, “You are mine, and I am yours.”

“What?” He’s insane.

“You will be my wife, and I will be your husband.”

What. The. Hell?

“You’re crazy.”

“For you.” A ghost of a smirk touches his lips. “I’m mad.”

I’m horrified. “I won’t marry you. I’ll never marry you.”

“You will.”

There’s something unnerving in his eyes. Something that shatters the shards of hope that I might break free of this lunatic. I try for reason. “You can’t make someone marry you. That’s not how the world works.”

He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “I know just how the world works, Little Blue. Before long, you’ll be my wife.”

I shake my head. “I won’t.”

“You will.” He dips his head, his breath warm against my ear. “Remember, I’m a killer.”

My body tenses. I blink through the dizziness. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not you. But I don’t feel the same way about your friend. What’s her name, again?” He makes a show of thinking, but we both know he knows. “Rae?”

“You’re a monster,” I whisper.

“I’m many things. A monster?” His eyes drop to my trembling lips. Sin drips from him. “Most definitely.”

“I’ll never love you.” The words sound softer than I intend between us.

It’s my very last plea.

His eyes drift to mine, glacial now. “We’ll see.”

Ten

Irelynn

After the confrontation in the closet, he lifted me into his arms and carried me back to his bed. My body had come down from my fear induced adrenaline spike, and I’d crashed hard. I’d fallen into a deep, troubled sleep, my head pounding, Lucy purring on the bed beside me.

Now, as I wake again, my mind is racing. Thankfully, the pounding in my head is little more than a dull throb.

I’m in a strange house, with a strange, clearly unhinged man. If what he says is to be believed, I’m not even in my country anymore.

My ears prick and my heart pounds as I register a crackle and pop.

Sitting up in the bed, I scan the room and instantly find the source of the sound. A fire that dances in a stone hearth. Next to it, in a chair angled my way, is the man.

My heart gives a quick, violent lurch. I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel them on me.

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