“You don’t have to say it for me to know the truth. Pretend all you want, pet. Do whatever it is you have to do to convince yourself you weren’t obsessed with me. That you didn’t seek me out in every room, touch yourself when you were alone in that little twin bed of yours. That you weren’t begging me to fuck you with those long stares aimed my way, hoping I’d offer you the slightest hint of attention.”
Her mouth twisted to one side, her nostrils flaring with the long breath of air she sucked into her lungs before forcing it out on a huff of annoyance. “I don’t even know what to say to that.” Emily shook her head. “It’s goddamn laughable.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Your body told me everything I needed to know about you.” I lifted a challenging brow. “It still does.” I kept guiding her backwards until an uneven divot in the floor had her stumbling, her legs giving out from under her as she landed on her ass.
She peered up at me, her glare just as piercing as when she was standing. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”
“So were you. So very full of me. Not all that long ago either. Is that your problem right now? You need to be full of me again.” I crouched forward, my knees hovering above the floor, my feet spread wide and balancing the brunt of my weight as I reached out a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.
“Don’t you dare touch me.” Her teeth were clenched, her jaw set tight as she slapped my palm aside.
“Close your eyes. I smell the same, feel the same. Just imagine I look the same. And I promise you won’t be saying that for long.” I grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms against her sides before pressing my lips to her cheek. “No, you’ll be begging me to touch you, princess.”
“The way you look? You honestly think that’s the issue I have with you? With the fact you have me chained up like some dog you found on the street?” She tugged an arm free, fumbling for the scalpel I was concealing in the palm of my hand. I knocked her back down on her ass and sat cross-legged in front of her.
“Sure, let’s say that’s the only reason.” I shrugged a single shoulder.
“I take that back. You’re not full of yourself. You are straight-up delusional.”
“Or maybe you just can’t admit how shallow you are. So narrow-fucking-minded you can’t accept the fact you loved a monster. Because he was a pretty monster. And really, what does that say about you, Emily Shaw?”
“I did not love you, Cohen.”
I slapped her hard enough to draw blood, and she returned the blow with one of her own.
“I let you fuck me for a brief period of time. I enjoyed the release of endorphins. More than anyone, you should know that is not love. Truth is, I barely knew you. We barely knew each other.” She laughed, the sound dry and humorless before dying off into a choked noise that bubbled in the back of her throat. Or maybe it was all the blood she was swallowing down.
I shuffled my boots on the cement flooring until my back was pressed against the closest wall, my chest rising and falling in quick succession as I allowed my grip on the blade to loosen. My other hand reached up to swipe at the blood trickling from my lip, the metallic taste resting on the tip of my tongue.
“Oh, I knew you, pet. Inside and out. There’s no more intimate a way to know someone than when they’re carrying a piece of you inside them.” I grinned, watching her face for any hint of emotion. Any sign that she felt something towards me. Even if it settled on hatred. I could work with that.
“You’ve been here… all this time. All these years. And instead of manning the fuck up and knocking on my door,” she hissed, little droplets of red saliva peppering the air before silently dotting the blanket as it slid lower on her chest. “Hell, how about just making a phone call or sending a goddamn letter, you’ve been here. Doing what? Seething? Plotting? Throwing an adult-sized tantrum because life didn’t turn out the way you thought it would? For ten fucking years.”
“What was I supposed to do? Show up on your doorstep looking like this?” I circled a finger around my face, observing the way her pupils dilated when her glare hitched on the thick layers of scarring. A stress response. “Take you out to all those fancy dinners like this?”
“Who wanted the fancy dinners, Cohen? Because it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
This time I was the one throwing my head back as I barked out a harsh laugh. “You’re telling me you don’t like nice things, Emily? You didn’t want to be wined and dined before I got my hands on that tight little skirt of yours?”
“So much energy focused on hunting me down and it’s like you don’t even know me. Maybe you lost some brain cells along with that eye.”
I jumped up, my movements silent as I closed the distance so quickly she didn’t have the time or ability to react before she was forced to stare me right in the eye. Barely a breath between us as I grunted against the soft skin just under her ear. “Watch your mouth, pet. Or I’ll be forced to watch it for you.”
“It is your specialty, isn’t it? Watching but never really learning a goddamn thing.”
“Emily…” I warned. Truth was I liked how close she was to tipping me over that edge. To forcing my hand.
“Shut up for once in your life and listen, Cohen.” She shoved at my chest.
I didn’t resist, baring my weight on my left palm while my right had my blade at the ready. In case my pet had some more fight left in her.
“Pay the fuck attention. I’m not the one who wanted nice things, who was obsessed with fancy things, who was so hyperfocused on things in general. I may not have loved you, Cohen. But given the chance, I could have. I probably would have if it all worked out differently and we had a kid together. And things had nothing to do with that.”
“I’m not a good man, Emily.” Another fact neither one of us could change.
“You don’t think I know that? You didn’t think I knew that back then? Long before any of… this?” She waved a hand around the room, her eyes bouncing over the various medical equipment I had at my disposal.
And I grinned as an idea started to take shape in my mind.