Page 155 of Deviant

I scowl at her, knowing she feels like she has the upper hand now.

“Tell me the truth. Were you interested in me at all back then?” she asks me point blank.

“Are you hard of hearing? I told you that I didn’t care for you then, and I don’t care for you now.”

When the electric chair springs to life, I’m not one bit surprised.

But when it goes a full two minutes, sending volt after volt through me, I start to regret my bullshit answer.

“Stop being so stubborn and just answer the questions truthfully!” Rowen yells, sounding more worried than annoyed with me.

Sweat drips down my face as I pant for breath, but the ‘fuck you’ smile on my lips to whoever is watching this show never wavers.

“Please, Elias. Please,” she all but begs. “Just answer honestly. Don’t make me watch you get hurt.”

Fuck.

Why did she have to go and say that shit for?

“Even if you interested me back then…” I start, still struggling for breath. “You were off limits. Therefore, you didn’t exist for me. You couldn’t exist to me.”

“Because I was Aidan’s girlfriend?” she counters, confused since neither of us ever hid our animosity toward the other.

If only Aidan had been the problem.

“No, Roe. Not because you were his, but because you werehers.”

That shuts her up real quick.

To me, Rowen was always Nora’s girl.

She will always be hers.

And these last couple of days that we’ve been together, I somehow forgot that.

With each lingering kiss, she purged it from my memory.

With every little moan, every little low murmuring sound, she made sure to melt it away from my memory.

But I can’t put the full blame on her, no matter how much I would like to.

Because, like her, I was eager to overlook her treacherousness, too.

Eager to pretend Rowen didn’t betray my sister in the worst way imaginable.

“Was it you in that alley by the park, the night of the Harvest Festival?” she asks, sensing that the man she’s starting to grow feelings for is no longer in the room with her.

But when I don’t answer her and instead point my gaze to the green lights blinking on her chair, her lips dip into a deep-rooted frown.

“Looks like you’re out of questions to ask. Better luck next time.”

My turn now.

“Do you still want to die?”

She looks taken aback at the question as if surprised I need the reminder.

“Yes,” she says after a pregnant pause. “I do. Very much so.”

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