Page 27 of Tell Me Why
Yeah,fuck. Maybe this wasn’t my best idea.
When I stand and move toward her, I expect her to flinch, but she doesn’t. Back rigid, her expression hardens, like she doesn’t want me to see her fear. But I do. I see it in the way her breath catches. In the way her pulse thrums rapidly at the base of her throat. Can I blame her? She’s a fox that’s wandered into the path of oneveryhungry wolf.
Studying her face, I brush the pad of my thumb over her hard nipple, just to see how she’ll react. She flinches slightly before catching herself and narrowing her eyes at me.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you tormenting me?” she asks.
“Why not?” I answer dismissively.
“I’m not responsible for what Shadow and Ash did. I had nothing to do with it. You know that, right?”
Is this chick fucking serious? I have her throat in my hand so quickly, she doesn’t have time to react. Her skin is soft against my palm.
“Your brother nearly killed mine,” I bite out through gritted teeth. “Sliced him up, then left him for fucking dead.” I tighten my hold, forcing a little squeak to emerge from her delicate throat. “So, yeah, if I can torment theoneperson that motherfucker loves, then I’m going to do it.”
Her throat bobs under my palm. “I’m sorry for what happened.”
Normally, I’d scoff at a statement like that. Who gives a fuck what she’s sorry about? It happened, and that’s the reality. But there’s something in her voice, a thread of sympathy that pushes me back on my heels and forces me to release her.
I’m not used to sympathy. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been shown sympathy in my entire fucking life. My parents outright ignore my brother and me, and growing up privileged doesn’t exactly inspire sympathy from the rest of the world. If you’re rich, it doesn’t matter what trauma your parents dish out, apparently. You should just be fucking grateful.
But here, now, there’s softness in Eve’s eyes, and I don’t like it.
Fuck her pity. Fuck her sympathy. They’re wasted emotions.
“It’s a little late for apologies, don’t you think?” I say, recovering.
“I’m not apologizing,” she replies. “I’ve already told you that I had nothing to do with what happened. But I know how it feels. My mom was a victim of violence—only she wasn’t as fortunate as your brother. She died instantly and, yeah, it shattered me.” Her throat flicks. “That’s why I’m here. I can’t let the same thing happen to my brother. If it did…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’d do...”
I’m in front of her again, lowering my head so we’re face-to-face. “So, we’re the same, is that it?”
Is this her attempt to manipulate me? Get under my skin?
She shrugs one shoulder. “The same. Different. Does it matter? We both just want to protect the people we love.”
Hm.It’s a fair point, but it doesn’t matter. This thing, her being here, goes far beyond my own personal feelings, my own wounds. It’s about making sure this shit never happens again—that this beef with Shadow and Ash is buried. Forever.
She blinks up at me with those wide, whiskey-colored eyes, and I swear to God, the ground moves beneath my feet. It’s just a slight shift, but it’s enough to wake me up.
“It’s time to go downstairs,” I say abruptly, stepping back. “There’s just one more thing you need to wear.”
“Someactualclothes?” she chirps back.
I remove a necklace from my pocket and hold it up, allowing it to dangle from my fingers. It’s long enough to slip over her head without being unclasped. “Put it on.”
She reaches for the gold pendant and stares down at it. “What is it? Why do I need to wear it?”
I bite back a frustrated groan. Always with the fucking questions. “That symbol marks you as a ward of the Burning Crown.”
She pulls a face and tries to hand it back to me. “No fucking way.”
“It’s not binding,” I say in a bored tone.
“Then why do I have to wear it?”
I shrug, already done with this conversation. “I don’t know, tradition. Just put it on, Eve, or I’ll pin you down and do it for you.”
Pursing her pink lips, she pulls it over her head with a scowl, the heavy gold pendant settling into the space between her breasts. “Happy?”
