Page 30 of Madness & Mercy
He doesn’t flinch.
Damn him.
“You think this is a game?” I hiss, my voice low and razor-sharp.
He tilts his head. “Isn’t it?”
I stare at him, hard. Studying every twitch in his expression. Every calculated breath. But he’s too well-trained. A professional liar. His heart may be pounding, but his mask never slips.
“You followed me here,” I say. “Risked your life. Slipped out of a fortress with cameras, guards, and locked doors. Why? You could’ve left and never came back, so why did you follow me?”
I lean in closer, my breath ghosting his ear.
“Did you come here to kill me, or were you just…curious?”
His smirk fades. Just a flicker. But I catch it.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters, but there’s something in his voice, Something tight, strained, and sharp.
“You were watching,” I say darkly. “Tell me, what did you see?”
“Not much,” he says. “You didn’t exactly leave a lasting impression.”
“And you thinkyouwould?”
That makes him laugh, but it’s bitter and hollow. “I think you’re already asking yourself that.”
I step forward until our bodies are nearly flush. My hand moves from the wall to his jaw, gripping it just enough to make a point.
His eyes flash, but he doesn’t look away.
“You think you know me,” I say. “Think you’ve got it all figured out. The killer. The sadist. The broken man with blood on his hands…”
I let the words hang between us, my thumb brushing the corner of his mouth like I’m wiping away a lie.
“But you don’t knowshitabout me.”
Julian’s breath catches, just slightly.
“You’re right,” he says after a beat. “I don’t.”
Then softer, more dangerous: “But you want me to.”
That’s the moment I lose control.
I slam my mouth to his like it’s a fucking war.
It’s not a kiss, it’s punishment. Violence. Confession.
He meets it with equal force—teeth clashing, lips bruising, hands fisting the front of my shirt like he can’t decide whether to shove me away or pull me closer.
I pin him harder against the wall, my fingers digging into his jaw, devouring the sound he makes when I bite his lip. He grunts, half-pain, half-something else, and I feel it down to my bones.
This is wrong. Dangerous. Out of control.
But I don’t stop.
Ican’t.
