Page 62 of Eden's Joker

“The same way they didn’t stop until all the men who imprisoned my dad were dead,” I say, knowing I’m treading on very thin ice here, but it needs saying. “Including your parents.”

“I won’t haveyoutalk about my parents!”

“Killing me and everyone I love won’t bring them back,” I insist, even though he sounded like he means to stop me the next time I do it. “It’ll just get you killed too.”

He scoffs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I don’t got much to live for beyond this.”

That’s a very sad thing to hear someone say. It cuts me deep like a knife to the chest and I have no idea how to stop the invisible bleeding.

He stands up and yanks me to my feet. “You need to accept where you’re at. No more of this insane pretending.”

We’re standing so close I can feel the heat rising from his body. And smell his intoxicating scent—leather and metal and ice, somehow. I can smell myself on him too.

“You want me as much as I want you. Don’t deny it, because I know,” I say. “And you don’t want me deador broken or raped by your men, no matter what you say. You want me all for yourself. Just like I want you.”

“Shut up.”

The words feel like a slap to the face. But a real slap would be easier to bear.

He doesn’t say anything more, just drags me back towards the house. I practically have to jog to keep up with his long steps.

He doesn’t stop until we’re in the foyer of the house, which smells like dust, the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner and loss.

He lets me go and bolts the front door behind us.

A part of me hopes I’ll get more of what he gave me last night now. And another part is very afraid of the black clouds gathering in his eyes. All his darkness is once again shrouding him. The darkness I thought I’d managed to chase away.

“I gotta go away for a couple of days,” he says and jogs up the stairs.

I’m still standing in the exact same spot he left me in when he returns with his bulging saddle bags.

“Why are you going?” I ask.

“Because not everything you said was complete bullshit,” he says. “The Devils will do whatever it takes to get you back. No matter the body count. I might have underestimated that.”

“Just let me go home,” I say. “End the war. And then we can start over.”

He laughs darkly. “And what, live happily everafter? Get your head out of the clouds, Eden. This really isn’t one of your love stories.”

“What about me?”

“You stay locked up in this house until I get back.”

“What if you don’t come back?”

I feel very shaky and teary all of a sudden. Like maybe I’m finally going to shed a tear over this crap situation he’s put us in.

The question gives him pause. But the next moment he’s grinning darkly again. “You better hope I do. Because there’s guys here who hate you and your father worse than I do.”

I want to tell him that he doesn’t hate me. But then he’ll just mock me again, call me naïve and delusional, and I don’t want to hear it.

He waits a couple more minutes to make sure I’m gonna stay quiet then walks to the door.

But he turns back before opening the door, and there’s a look in his eyes I haven’t seen there before. They’re never soft, but right now they are.

“There’s a library in the room next to the study,” he says. “It has a ton of old books you’ll probably love. Knock yourself out while you still can.”

That was the absolute last thing I expected to hear him say. Hell, it wasn’t even on the list of things I thought he might say.

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