Page 83 of Petite Fleur

“Exactly.” He points out smugly.

Jerk.

“I did drug you, but I promise you that I accounted for your weight and monitored you while you were out, but I am sorry about that.” He promises. “And I kidnapped you from a home that was no longer yours. I kidnapped you from living on the streets.” He argues.

Can I tell him to shut up without making him mad?

Should I try it out and see what happens?

“Ah! But you still electrocuted me and cut my arm!” I snap back.

He gives a quick shrug, and a smug grin comes across his face, making me regret arguing with him already.

“I did, but to be fair, I warned you not to run, and I pulled you away from the perimeter before you could get hurt. As for the bar, at least you weren’t conscious when I did it.” He adds.

How can I argue with someone who has a rebuttal for everything I say?

He squeezes my hand again and brings my focus back to him and his charming but smug smile. I hate that he has the ability to do that with such ease.

“Think about it this way, ma fleur, I watched you for months, studied you, followed you, and looked after you. Why would I do that if I had planned to hurt you? Why would I pack all of your things and bring them here if I planned to hurt you?” He asks.

Honestly, he's making sense.

If he stalked me for months, then he knows about my celiac. He knows how seriously I take it and being vegan.

"You can trust me. I will always take care of you." He adds in.

I know it's creepy, heck I barely know him, but it's not like I have a lot of options.

Plus, if he did kidnap me to hurt me, he would've done it by now.

If I were meant to be killed and turned into a lampshade, it would have already happened.

Right?

So I have to assume that he’s telling the truth and that he doesn’t want to hurt me. I have to assume that his food is safe, too.

When I dig into the meal, I have to admit that everything is delicious.

All the vegetables are slow roasted, so they're soft and caramelized perfectly, and the chickpeas are somehow slightly crunchy.

It's delicious.

I find myself eating far too quickly not to be embarrassing, but Leon doesn't point it out; he just scoops up more of the vegetables and puts them onto my plate when I am almost finished with my first serving.

“In two weeks, you will be taking your exams online with a camera pointed at you so they know you’re not cheating.” He states when we’re halfway through our meal.

I drop my fork and stare over at him in disbelief. Did I just hallucinate?

“What?” I ask, almost convinced he’ll repeat himself and wouldn’t have actually said what I heard.

“I called the school for you, but I’ll be there to watch you. If you try to warn them about what is happening here, just know that nobody knows where you are, and they’ll never be able to find you, but you will fail.” He adds in.

I don’t understand how this moment crumbled so quickly.

He was so sweet and comforting and shifted into psychotic almost instantly.

How can I shift from feeling safe to terrified so quickly?

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