Page 92 of Ruthless Intent

Her face pales when I ask her if she wants to know how my fantasies about her end, but it’s not enough. I need to see the fear in her eyes. I need to remind myself that this isn’t just a pretty girl. So, I lean closer until I can whisper in her ear.

“You see, Ashley, the hope that I’d get out one day and have you at my mercy is the one thing that kept me going. It stopped me from killing myself and joining Jason in the afterlife. The knowledge that you were out there, living your life without any consequences for what you did to me, stoked my anger, and forced me to survive.”

My nose brushes along hers as I draw back to search out her eyes. “So just remember that if you insist on pushing me the way you have today, then nothing will save you or your mother. I will put her behind bars, and take more than fourteen months of your life away from you. I’ll destroy fucking everything.”

Her lashes lower, hiding her eyes from my sight, but not before I see the flash of fear in them.

I step back.

“Stand up.”

She slides off the countertop, wincing when her feet hit the floor, but stands steady.

“Here’s how the rest of today is going to look for you. You’re going back to your room?—”

“No.”

My hand is back around her throat in a flash, and I surge forward, shoving her back against the unit. She gasps.

“It wasn’t a fucking request. You missed your chance for breakfast and a shower, and you tried to escape. So no lunch for you. If your attitude changes, you can eat at dinner time. If not … Well, there’s always tomorrow.”

And with that, I drop my hand from her throat and grab her wrist. She fights me as I drag her from the room, but I have a height and weight advantage and nothing she does will loosen my grip.

I throw open Jason’s door with one hand and shove her through with the other. I have it closed and locked just in time for her to throw her weight against it from the other side.

She turns from defiant to pleading almost immediately.

I get it. I understand it. I wouldn’t want to be locked in there either. I can barely look in the room any time I open the door.

I can even acknowledge that it’s a cruel thing to do. But it’s necessary. To remind her and me that I have a plan. One that involves teaching her a lesson she’ll never forget.

She’s seen the recording of her interview now. She heard her own admission that I didn’t have a knife. But she still insists that her memory is one of me standing over Jason’s body, with a knife in my hand.

Forcing her to relive that night from inside the room might make her admit that she’s lying.

I ignore her calling my name, and walk back downstairs. My cell rings just as I reach the bottom step, and I take it out of my pocket to connect the call.

“You didn’t come home last night.” My mom doesn’t even say hello.

“I stayed at the house.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m there right now.” There’s worry in her tone.

“Not that house. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Why are you there?”

I glance up the stairs. Ashley has fallen quiet.

“Just working through a few things.” Walking through to the kitchen, I take a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. “I’ll come by later. I have a few things I need to do today … You should know that I spent last night with Ashley.”

“You spent … you mean … you slept with her?”

“Something like that.” Nothing like that at all. “Do you mind if I bring her with me later? You should probably get to know her.”

“What do you mean, I should get to know her? You’ve barely been home a couple of days, and you’re already spending a lot of time with the girl who took you away from us. What’s going on, Zain?”

“We have a connection. I didn’t expect it. Nor did she. But I’ve lost too much time already. I don’t want to waste another moment. Who knows what might happen? We both want to see where this goes.” I don’t like lying to her, but I can’t exactly tell her the truth.

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