Page 72 of The Black Lotus
His features morph, confusion twisting into anger, his eyes wide as he slaps me across the face. I don’t register the abuse at first, but it has enough force, my head snaps to the side.
I must want to greet death quickly. “You slap like a bitch,” I spit, tasting iron on my tongue as I spit at his feet.
Stupidity and bravery go hand in hand, my words making me question my sanity. By the look on his face, I’ve said the wrong thing, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. Laughter fills theroom, mine or his I’m unsure, maybe both? As he pummels his fist into every inch of me he can reach, not relenting until my body slumps against my restraints, silence blanketing us as the room spins and copper fills my mouth.
I close my eyes, trying to make him think he knocked me out. I can hear his heavy breathing and feel him standing over me, waiting for me to flinch, to groan. Waiting for proof he didn’t go too far.Waiting to go again. I keep my head down, not in the mood to be punched any more. Aster taught me the pain of a blade, not fists; he never expected someone to be so blunt in their attack. My body screams for any type of relief as I feel bruises beginning to form. The need to taunt him more, to see how far I can push his control, battles with the need to stay quiet and wait for him to walk away.
Slowly cracking my eyes open, I see his feet still in front of me, so I stay still, forcing my body to remain limp and lifeless. I want to groan, the need to make some type of noise because it feels like he might have cracked a rib.I guess the bitch was holding back.
I contemplate talking again, but gaining his attention in any way could lead to more harm. Still, I am curious as to what he’s going to do. Aster knows he was the last person I was with, surely he isn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t come looking for me.
Fuck it.
“Hey,” I croak when I see his footsteps receding. Looking up, I gather what little saliva I have left in my mouth and say it louder. “Hey!”
He flinches, turning slowly on his heels. “You’re still conscious after that?” he asks in disbelief as he stalks back over.
“I have a question for you,” I say quietly, swallowing back the blood pooling in my mouth, satiating some of the burn.
He crouches in front of me. Making sure we’re face to face. ”Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You’re not scared?”
His head jerks back, his eyes narrowing in surprise. “Scared?” he scoffs, “Scared of what? A little girl tied to a chair in a place she can’t escape?”
A bloody smile lifts my cheeks as I shake my head. “Not of me, not yet.” He barks a laugh, and I wait for him to shut the fuck up. “Aster,” I breathe his name, wishing so badly I was whispering it for another reason. Wanting him here punishing this cop and freeing me so we can make him scream together. I pull against my restraints, hoping to instill the fear he has been desperately trying to make me have.
He stands, placing his hands on his knees and crowding me against the chair as he tips his head to the side. “I’m not scared of the Morbid Monet.”
Everything else he says fades to the background as all the air in the room is sucked out.He knows Aster is the Monet?If he knows his true identity, then why hasn’t he locked him up? Aster was never questioned by the cops until he met me. He was safe until he started breaking his rules for me.Am I the reason this little bitch figured out who he was?
Tears slip free from my swollen eyes as a sob bubbles up, begging to be heard. He snaps his fingers in my face, his lip curling, aware I stopped listening. “Why are you crying?” he asks, annoyed.
“Am I the reason you know?” I sniffle.
His face scrunches. “You?” His harsh laugh bounces around the cement cell. “You think you’re the reason I know who Aster is? You’re not as bright as we thought if you still haven’t figured it out.”
“We?”
Tension bleeds from my muscles.I’m not the reason.He didn’t get caught because of me. Not that he is caught, unless this is an elaborate setup to get Aster to come here and kill a cop while the other officers are waiting to come in and arrest us both.Then why would a whole police force let one bitch cop torture a potential accomplice?And if they had the evidence, why wouldn’t they just arrest him?
No, that isn’t it.
“Think, youstupidgirl.”
My breath catches, my ribs aching in protest. “You have a partner.”
“And what else? Come on, think.”
My eyebrows scrunch as I replay the events that lead to this moment. The moment I met Aster. The moment he killed me and vice versa. The moment Zephira coming into our lives and everything after.
“You’re almost there. I can see your brain searching for the answer. Come on, Serena, think harder,” he encourages, which confuses me even more.
The desperation in his voice makes me even more determined to figure out everything, but the pain slows my brain, my thoughts sluggish and jumbled.
“Who is the one common denominator in all of this? The one connecting everyone to you,” he whispers, his eyes taking on a crazy look.
My eyes widen. “Cynthia.”
