Page 70 of Tormented

“Why the fuck are you yelling?” she asks.

“Fuck it.” I let go, backing up as I rip the earbuds out.

She leans up on her elbows and stares.

“What?” I snap.

“You’re naked.”

“So? Never seen a dick before?”

She smirks. “Not yours.”

“Fuck’s sake.” I rip the pillow off the bed and throw it over her face before searching out my boxers. “Let me guess: you sleep in a cute little pajama set with hearts on it?”

“Skulls, actually.”

“You never answered my first question.”

She sets the pillow back in its position and climbs onto the bed, sitting square in the middle with her legs folded Indian style. “Need somewhere to sleep.”

“There are twelve rooms down this end of the place.”

“Are there?” she sasses.

You going to let her dictate what’s going on here . . .?

Great—he’s awake too.

“Have the bed then. I’ll sleep out in the main hall on one of the sofas.”

“It’s big enough to share, you know.”

“I don’t play well with others.”

“So you’ve said a thousand times over.”

Fuck this girl. How the hell am I supposed to ignore this macabre curiosity I have for her when she’s on my bed with her knees apart like that? I scrub a hand over my face and sigh. “What’s the end game here, Abbey?” Fucking shorts are so damn close to showing it all . . . .

“You get company,” she says, pointing at me. “And I get company.” Her finger moves to her chest.

“Who said I need any company?”

“Just a hunch.” She shrugs, letting out a short, sharp sigh. “And I guess I wanted to say sorry too. For having an agenda, for being selfish and wanting you to do the exact same thing I refuse to, and most of all for making my problems yours.”

The girl has a conscience . . . bravo . . . . The devil in my head inspects his nails, unimpressed.

Yet the way she fidgets with the sheets at her feet, the frown on her face, and the little shrugs she gives as she talks—that all says something about how vulnerable she feels right now, saying a word that I don’t think I’ve ever said more than a dozen times in my life.

A better man might be touched by it.

I’m wondering how I can exploit it for my benefit.

I’m a sick fucker like that.

“Company helps you sleep, huh?”

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips as the curtain of her hair hides her eyes. “I’m not the cuddling type, though.”

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