Page 60 of Morsel

She should be grateful that I didn’t kill her back then.

The millions of recording lenses keep me restrained. Phones. People. Strangers. Online viewers. Everyone is watching me.

Her body trembles with rage. “You don’t remember me, but I’ll never forget you.”

The urge to tear her throat out and stomp on her spinal cord lashes against my fingers, and I curl my knuckles in agitation. I’d eat her heart like a steak, straight from the bitch’s body, raw in my fucking hands. Like Mona ate the filet in the restaurant.

I squeeze my fists at my side. I’m stronger than this. I have Mona now. I don’t need a paid little cunt like this bitch in front of me.

And I’m not going to let her accusation fuck me over.

I peer up at the building to Mona’s office window. Mona and Artemis look down at me, their expressions blank.

Mona knows me. She knows I would never hurt her like that, and that’s enough for me right now.

“You got your fucking money,” I snarl.

“I’m a person,” Desire says, tears and snot dripping down her face like she’s a fucking dog. I want to punch her in the fucking face like I should’ve done when I had her tied to my cage, and it seems like that’s what she wants. To get a reaction out of me, like that shaved-headed man at work. To let these people catch me in the act of hurting a woman, like that frightened brunette recording me in the break room. To put me behind bars, when I’m so close to getting the only thing I’ve ever wanted for myself.

Of course you’re not a rapist, Mona had said.

I’m not a rapist. I’m not. Desire knew what I wanted. She knew, and she cried, but fuck her. She got her money. It’s not my fault she changed her mind. It was too late for that.

“You knew what was coming,” I say.

I stomp toward the parking lot, muttering to myself. Control yourself, and you’ll get what you want. I repeat the mantra, but I can’t stop thinking about the sex worker.

I told her, didn’t I? I told her exactly what I wanted.

She chose to stay.

Chapter 23

I told Mona to call me, but my phone doesn’t ring.

I knew this would happen.

I tap my fingers on the table and check the grandfather clock. Do Mona’s missing phone calls have anything to do with the accusations that bitch made outside of her office, or does it have to do with Artemis?

It has to be Artemis. He’s a jealous parasite getting under her skin. Changing her decisions. Feeding on her.

Hatred bubbles in my veins as I realize that I’m that stupid, little boy again, waiting for his mother to wake up and feed him something. Anything. Waiting for her to love him again.

Except this time, it’s not my mother.

It’s Mona.

At Mona’s next lecture, the front seats are taken, so I sit in the back row. Once class is over, she limps to the door, and I step in front of the exit and block her path.

“We haven’t had dinner in a while,” I say. “I’ll cook for you.”

She checks to make sure no one is watching us, then she grins at me. “I have a meeting later, but I can squeeze in a meal. How about that chain restaurant?”

I scrutinize her, reading past those words. Artemis must have told her to only meet me in a public setting. She doesn’t trust me anymore.

Then I remember he said he didn’t trust her with me either. As if we are two people destined to destroy each other.

It’s more proof that we are made for each other.

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