Page 32 of The Wrong Drive

Nothing.

I reach for the knob, and turn it, shoving the door open with force. “Isaid,it’sdinner time.”

She sits cross-legged on the bed, her damp hair spilling over her shoulders, and her black sweatshirt hanging loosely on her shrinking frame. She stares at her hands.

“Get up,” I command, taking a step toward her. “You’re eating with me tonight.”

“No,” she says, her voice barely audible.

“Yes, you are,” I stalk toward her, catching the lavender scent of her as I come within a foot of where she sits. “Youaregoing to eat with me.”

She shakes her head.

“Fuck, Emersyn,” I seethe, clenching my fists. “Get up.”

“No,” she answers. Rage floods my vision, and I don’t know if I want to fall to my fucking knees andbegher to come with me or choke the life right out of her.Why is she doing this? Why does this all have to be so hard?

I reach down, clamping my hand around her forearm. “You’re coming.” I drag her off the side of the bed, and she whimpers as I give her zero gentleness. “You’re making me do it this way. I won’t let you die of starvation.”

She stays silent as I damn near drag her the entire way to the kitchen. I pull out the chair, force her to sit down, and thenfill her plate with a chicken rice casserole. She goes to stand up, but I’m faster, pulling my pistol and setting it beside my dinner plate. She sits back down.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” I mutter. “You want to give me the silent treatment, but you still don’t want to die.”

She lifts her eyes to me then, meeting my gaze for the first time in four days. “I’d really just hate for you to get blood in your food.”

“I’d eat it anyway,” I snarl back at her disgusted expression.

“Sick fuck.” She shakes her head, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork. She lifts it up, like she might take a bite, but then sets it back down.

I take her in, sitting under the warm glow of the kitchen light for the first time since I killed her boyfriend, and it fuckinghurts. I barely know this woman, really, but yet I hate myself for being the reason she looks so…fucked up.Dark circles hold her jade eyes, dulled and puffy. Her lips are cracked. Her hair disheveled. She doesn’t look like the woman that danced with me in the kitchen four days ago.

She looks like walking death.

AndIdid it. She’s starting to look like Thomas did. Maybe it’s better when people don’t survive me long.

I force myself to eat, now me being the one who can’t lookherin the face. I’ve taken a lot of lives, but this is the first time I’ve seen the repercussions in person—the damage I’ve done. The person I killed is dead in the ground, at peace, but this woman… She’s in hell right now.

I need a drink.I scoot back from the table, suddenly sick with myself for making her eat at my table. I go to the liquor cabinet, something I don’t frequent, grabbing a bottle of bourbon. I pour myself a glass, and then down the whole thing.

Maybe I should kill her. That would bring her peace.

But I hate the idea. I hate the idea of her being withhim, even in death. I’m sure that makes me a sick fucking bastard. I didn’t want her here. But now that she is… I glance back to her, meeting those somber fucking eyes.

I want the Em back that I kissed.

What do I have to do? Do I have to tell her the truth about me?I want to tell her everything, and my expression must give me away, because for a split second, there’s curiosity in her face instead of coldness. I look away.

“It’s the winter solstice,” I grunt, pouring myself another glass. “Four days until Christmas.”

“Why’d you do it?” Her question cuts through my walls, slicing into me. “Turner,” she repeats herself after a few long beats of silence. “Why did you kill him?”

I blow out a breath. I can answer this. “He tried to kill Gunner. I need Gunner.”

She lets out a sharp breath of annoyance, like she can’t argue with that. “Okay, but then why did you try to kill me?”

I look up as I tip the glass back, knowing this one is going to lead to a spiral of truth. “You were in my older brother’s room.”

“I didn’t know the room was off-limits,” she says quietly. “I started looking around when I shouldn’t have, but… I just wanted to know you.”

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