Page 96 of Overcast

I’ve denieda lot of things over the course of days or weeks—however long it’s been since I was dragged out of my house by the man in front of me—but this pizza...I’ve never had anything so amazing in my life.

It may be because I can't remember when I ate normal food without a dirty fingerprint on it or a meal that wasn't in the frozen section. However, I'll never take pizza for granted again.

And the moment I smelled it, I lost.

On my third piece of pepperoni, Emric watches me from across the room in a brown rocking chair. I'm not a vegetarian, wouldn't survive being one, and I wasn't looking for him to try and force-feed me again.

That, and I'm starving.

"How's the meat?" Emric asks as he chews on his slice, lips curved slightly at the edges of his mouth.

If I knew this “dinner date” that he mentioned was going to include more questions, I would’ve taken it up to my room.

“Do we have to talk during this?” I counter, bringing my attention back to the only thing interesting in the room—my pizza slice.

He shrugs nonchalantly in my peripheral. “Not unless you don't want to talk about your dad.”

I stop chewing, my jaw tightening at these "deals" he keeps shoving my way. It's incredible how a man I've never met can hold so much over my head.

“It’s good,” I mumble. “The pizza is fine.”

"Veggie lover, huh?"

"Nope."

He scoffs lightly. "Thought so."

"Good thing you didn't bet." I lean back in my chair then carefully readjust my good leg underneath my bottom.

Me and my good ideas. I should’ve waited as originally planned to act on that escape plan of mine, but...spending time in this beautifully done cabin is starting to suffocate me.

"Good thing," he repeats, grabbing another slice before throwing the crust of his previous one in the box. I mindlessly perk a brow that he catches onto. "What?"

“Nothing.”

Besides the crust being the best part of the pizza, you fool.

“Speak what’s on your mind, Stormi,” he offers. “Believe it or not, you’re safe here and under my protection.

I swallow the numerous comments flooding my brain.

Yeah, right.

Sure I am.

I'm safer than a tiny fish in apond full of sharks.

I'll trust you when I develop short-term memory loss, and you decide to get a clue that I'm never forgiving you.

“I believe that your father might know or has heard something from Hollis. If they are close, like you said, he might help.”

No clue.

“No clue.”

“I need it,” he states more urgently. “And I don’t have any more time to mess around.”

My eyes flick to him, a wave of anxiety creeping up my spine. “What does that mean?”

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