Page 15 of Worship

The side of his lip curls upward. “Couldn’t be more wrong.”

I grip the sides of the chair until pain shoots up my fingers. “Why are we having dinner?”

“Because you look like a corpse.” He drains the rest of the water while I flush with shame.A corpse. How nice of him. “At least you looked alive last time I saw you.”

“I couldn’t have been more dead.”

He opens his mouth to say something but closes it when two figures approach us. Men wearing heavy jackets, rumpled jeans, and boots now stand by our table, an unmistakable air of danger surrounding them. With eyes void of humanity. Not the worst I’ve seen, but something I recognize well.

“Quanto?” The taller man steps forward, reaching into his pocket and producing a thick pile of cash.

Milton’s calmness is unsettling, and all he does is sigh. “It seems I still can’t bring you anywhere without attracting attention. Do you know what he just asked?”

I don’t understand the word, but the cash in the man’s hand and the way he’s leering at me with sweat trimming his brow, makes it obvious. Too many people have looked at me like that over the years. Too many have wanted to possess me.Ownme. “They want to buy me.”

As I wait for Milton’s next move, it dawns on me that maybe he isn’t on Blake’s orders after all. Perhaps this is his plan—get revenge on me for having Blake order his death by selling me off.

“Take it, fucker. We pay you good money.” The man throws the cash on the floor, and the bills splatter over the tiles. So much. I should tell him damaged goods aren’t worth that amount.

My heart speeds up as I brace myself for history to repeat itself. Instead, Milton surprises me bylaughing.

His laugh punctures the strained atmosphere, causing people in the restaurant to glance in our direction. Like mine, their faces twist with confusion at the disruption.

It stops, and Milton’s out of his chair in a flash. A glint of metal shines in the light as he grabs the man’s shoulder and thrusts the knife he’s holding into his neck. There’s a sickening squelch as he yanks it back out and stabs again, this time twisting the blade.

“She isn’t for sale,fucker,” he sneers as the man splutters on his own blood that drips down Milton’s hand. “Youtake it.”

Blood roars behind my ears as the other man shuffles back, eyes wide with horror as Milton drags the knife back out. Blood sprays on the floor, the money, like raindrops. After yelling something incoherent, the man runs out of the restaurant as his friend's body drops to the floor. Dead.

No one screams.

A few people get up and leave, but those who remain go back to their meals like nothing happened. It’s so fucking silent except for my heart that’s thumping like a drum. I breathe in. Out. I’m not sure I’m evenbreathingat all.

Sitting back down at our table, Milton tosses the bloodied knife to the ground. Grabbing a napkin, he wipes the blood off his hand as Bella rounds the corner, skidding to a stop when she sees the man’s body sprawled out on her floor.

“You should know that it’s rude doing business in public, Bella,” he says to her, his tone stern. Angry.

Her hands ball into fists, eyes lighting with rage, and I realize then this was orchestrated by her, not him. “Things are changing around here, Milton. Perhaps it’s time to pick a side.”

“I have a side, thank you.”

“If you could even callthata side—”

“How about you say that to Maxim? I’m sure he’d love to hear it.”

Just as Bella storms away, our food arrives, and I can’t believe it considering there’s a dead man on the floor a few feet away from our table.

As Milton wraps pasta around his fork, unaffected by murdering a man, he glances at my untouched dish. “Eat. It’s going to be a long night.”

I want to scream at him. Run. But years with Blake have destroyed normal human emotion, and I don’t know what to do other than pick up my fork and copy his actions. Chew and swallow.

The line is thin between knowing better and craziness. And I’m leaning more toward crazy. To survive, you have to be.

* * *

Dark gray cloudsdrift in front of the moon, encasing everything in darkness as we drive further away from Fair Haven. My bones rattle after what happened in the restaurant, yet it confuses me.

Blake killed. He murdered people who wronged him. Who so much as looked at him the wrong way. He killed men, women, and often in front of me. So why has Milton murdering that man shaken me like this? Because he killed tosaveme without Blake telling him to?

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