Page 108 of Tempest

She startles.

“If you’re here to ask me the hardball questions, expect a fast return.”

“Well.” Ardyn clears her throat. “It was terrible. I was positive they were going to kill me.”

“Did they hurt you?” My voice takes on a slow, careful tone, usually used once before I go in for the kill. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until Ardyn’s lashes flare, then settle as she studies me with interest.

She’s not meant to be intrigued by me. The girl’s supposed to live in constant fear.

“No,” she responds, “they used threats, constantly told me they were going to cut me to pieces, but they didn’t … they never…”

“I’m aware of that part,” I say dryly, “since I’m the one who had the privilege of shredding your hymen.”

Yet the thought of a man even hinting at raping her sets my ears on fire and produces an unyielding ringing in my head. My fists ache to do some permanent damage.

Ardyn snorts in disgust. “Leave it to you to ruin the moment.”

“What moment?”

“The few seconds where you actually cared about my outcome.”

“At no point have I given a shit about what happened to you,” I lie. “I read the news as a favor to Clover and was curious if the press got it right. I guess they did. You were damaged but whole until you were splattered across asphalt next to your dead friend. Que another mental breakdown.”

My words hit their intended mark. Her features darken, half her face highlighted by the moon, the other consumed in shadow. My soul, everyone, in the shape of Ardyn Kaine.

Except for this time, I don’t like the taste of my insults. Bitter, acidic, and tough to swallow. Probably because I’m the one who caused the mess this time and forced her to live with her pain.

Ardyn, the sweet girl, wisely changes topics. “Why did you choose Titan Falls? Why with Rio? And why that couple?”

“That information is way above your business, princess. We’re still needing to discuss our next steps when it comes to you.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because of Clover.”

Ardyn doesn’t flinch. I do.

“And there it is,” I say. “You’ve discovered the one reason I have to live.”

There’s a twinge in my gut following those words since they’re not altogether true. Ardyn is fast becoming another excuse not to die, a fact I can never voice because it won’t do either of us any good.

I am a weapon of Miguel’s, a tool for Bianchi, a piece of trash to my father. Ardyn deserves better.

She deserves a man who didn’t kill her best friend because he was ordered to.

“If what you say is true and she has no idea, if I go to the police, I’ll destroy Clover,” Ardyn continues. “I missed out on a lot of her life, but if these past weeks with her have shown me anything, it’s that she’s had trouble processing Mila’s death the same way I have.”

It takes every ounce of training I have not to react to her words.

“Clover’s buried herself in magic, crystals, witches. I’ve deleted my memories. We’re both shells of who we used to be. I don’t want to do worse to her. I want…”

I resist the urge to draw closer. “Yes?”

“I want it to be different.” Ardyn sighs, chasing the tightness of her features by rubbing her hands over her face. Then seeming to realize I was still all over her, she lifts her shirt to wipe the rest of the mess away. I track every exposure of skin, from the lines of her torso to the perfect divot of her belly button. “No one will believe me. It’ll be my word against yours, and to go up against a teaching assistant to a respected, tenured professor … no, I’m not stupid.”

“You took the very words from my mouth.”

---