Page 12 of Mine, Forever

The question came out of nowhere, and I searched her eyes for a key as to why she had asked it. It seemed like she was genuinely interested, which I didn’t understand.

“I enjoy it. I love seeing the life slip out of people’s eyes.”

She went back to drawing. “What made you that way?”

“It’s just who I am.”

We sat in silence until I could no longer tolerate it. “What is Giordy planning?”

“Why don’t you kidnap Darla? She’s closer to him, and she’ll know how to sing like a little rat. I’ve only been back in their lives for two days.”

“You sound happy about it,” I sarcastically retorted. “Why do you hate him so much?”

She sighed, stopping her drawing again. “I don’t. Truth is, I couldn’t give one damn about my mother’s side of the family.”

The confession had me grinning. What had her mother done to her to make her so angry? Could it have anything to do with the brokenness inside of her, the part of her I had wanted to see all along?

“And your father?”

“Rotting in prison.”

That piqued my interest. “What for?”

“Killing people.”

I waited a little bit until I asked her what I’d wanted to know since I met her. “Do I scare you?”

“Yeah, at times you do. But right now, you don’t.”

Simple, concise answer. Her breathing was normal which told me she wasn’t lying.

“Why haven’t you tried to escape?”

“And go where?” She stood up, taking her sketchpad with her. As she headed inside, I called out her name. Ebony turned around to look at me, those eyes boring into mine.

“Have you ever wanted to kill someone?”

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you?”

She took a deep breath as if this conversation was boring her. “Because I’m human.”

With that, she walked inside. If anyone else had said that to me, I would have shot them.

Jesus, why had I asked her that?

I didn’t ask people questions. What the hell was I doing?

EBONY

I punched into the pillow to try and get comfortable. All night I’d been on edge, and all through dinner, which had been amazing.Who knew a psycho killer could be a great cook?He’d given me whiskey after, and I’d drawn by the fireplace while he said nothing. He didn’t even seem upset that I’d called him inhuman. I guess not having a soul meant you didn’t care about such trivial things. He’d taken off his business shirt and put on a tank top. Before he pulled that black cotton tank on, I’d seen the tattoos on his back. He had a huge grim reaper with a scythe dripping blood over the span of his entire back. There was so much detail I hadn’t had the chance to thoroughly look at it, but I knew everything in that image was connected. Maybe to something he’d done in his past, maybe to his kills, but somehow everything was connected and told Jett’s story. I desperately wanted to study it.

For the last two hours I’d tried to get to sleep, but I just couldn’t seem to do it— or to let go of everything that had happened. Jett promised to get me on a flight the next day, but something in me was hesitant to trust a ruthless killer.

Why had he kept me here all day without immediately sending me away?

Why had he asked me all those damn questions?

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