Page 85 of Unorthodox
“Go fuck yourself, Max.”
He rolls his eyes, still smirking. “We both know you’re coming back with me.”
Some of the anger gives way to fear. My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips, trying to focus on what I have to lose if he gets me back to that house.Everything.I haveeverythingto lose.
“Let me go,” I tell him, refusing to make it a plea. Not anymore. He can break every bone in my face if he wants, but I’m done begging. “Let me go, and…kill my father. Take his fucking money. Get what he owes you and leave me out of it. I won’t go back to him, I won’t go to Danik. I’ll disappear. I’ll get far, far away from here.”
I might be stupid to believe it, but he actually looks as if he’s considering my words. As if he might do just that.
His smirk is gone. That sick gleam in his eyes is dull, and he just stares, as if he’s thinking over my words.
“You’ll disappear?” he asks me, his tone unreadable.
I nod, flexing my fingers over the warm rock in my hand.
“And where will you go?” He steps closer.
I back up. “I don’t know,” I tell him truthfully. “But I won’t come back here.”
“Do you even know where we are?”
I swallow down the lump in my throat, take another step back as he comes closer. “I don’t need to know that to run as far away as I can from this place. I’ll go to the west coast. I’ll—”
“With what money, Addison?” He steps closer, and this time, I don’t move. “With what car? What job? What friends? How will you get so damn far, without a fucking thing?” He’s so close, he could reach out and touch me, but he doesn’t. His hands stay by his side.
“You’re planning to sell my body. Why couldn’t I do the same, on my own terms?” I force a smile, even though I feel like doing anything but. “Come on, Max. You’re not the only one with business sense.”
His jaw clenches, and he reaches for me again.
This time, I’m ready for it.
I bring the rock up and start to slam it down against his face, but he blocks me with his forearm. I lift it again, back on the offensive, but he grabs my wrist, yanks the rock from my hand and tosses it away from us.
Grabbing my other wrist, he yanks me toward him, his grip bruising. “Are you done?”
I lift my knee, but he pulls me closer, hooking his foot around my leg, keeping me too close to his body to inflict any real damage.
Still, I squirm in his grip, trying to pull away.
His hold tightens. “Make this easy for me, okay?”
I freeze, my limbs locking up as I meet his gaze.
“I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
A shiver slides down my spine despite the heat. There’s something dark about those words, and yet I can’t believe he’s saying them right now. It’s enough to keep me rooted to the spot with confusion, my mind spinning.
“I just killed my best guard. By the time we get back to the edge of the woods, his body will be gone.” He doesn’t loosen his grip, but something in his eyes softens as he glances beyond me, at the sky. “I know you don’t believe this,” he looks back down at me, “but I’m not happy about what I did.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s like my brain is trying to catch up to his words, and I know what they mean, on a basic level, but I have no idea why he’s saying what he’s saying.
And he’s right.
I don’t believe him.
“Then why did you do it?” I ask him, my voice loud, my anger returning in the wake of his softness.
His eyes narrow. “He would’ve let you escape the next chance he got.”
