Page 23 of Slay Me

“Yes. Novel concept for you, I know.”

He’s so cold, so dismissive, it burns me from the inside out. “You can fuck right off, then.” Furious, my power surges through the room, sending the papers on his desk flying onto the floor.

The Ringmaster stands and places both hands on his desk. “Pick those up.”

“Fuck off,” I repeat.

His nostrils flare. “No one else would dare speak to me the way you do. Do you truly believe you are that important to me? That special that I will not punish you for disrespecting me?”

“Go ahead.” I wipe an angry tear from my cheek. “You can’t hurt me anymore than I’ve already suffered.”

“You have no idea what I am capable of,” he says calmly as he moves around his desk. “I could make you feel more pain than you’ve ever felt, put you through things that would make your nightmares a dream. Shall you continue pushing me and find out just what a man like me is capable of?”

Tears burn my eyes as they slip down my cheeks. Fear makes my hands shake; it makes my stomach churn. But I shove through his door and slam it behind me.

I screwed up. Because even after our confrontation back in that alley after he’d bought me beautiful fabrics, I allowed myself to feel important to the Ringmaster. To believe that there might be something in me he sees that I don’t.

But I’m nothing to him.

Nothing special to anyone.

And above that fear, above that embarrassment, I’mmortifiedfor allowing everyone to push me around. For being weak. Apollo clings to me, and I don’t have the balls to tell him to back off. The Ringmaster requires me to work twice as much as everyone else…I stomp down the stairs and into the hall.

Ernesto bullied me until I was reduced to nothing. Until I was literal stone.

My parents forced me out of my home because I was worthless—because they feared what others would think of my lack of power.

I reach my door and then pause as cool realization hits me. I’m being weak right now.

Why the hell am I letting him bully me? Why the hell am I lettinganyoneorder me around? If I’m truly nothing more than a performer, if I’m nothing special, shouldn’t I be allowed to do as the others do? Turning on my heel, I march down the hall and bang on Fiona’s door before I have a chance to change my mind.

There’s a long pause, and I nearly turn away. But before I can, she’s pulling her door open. Hair a mess on top of her head, she’s wrapped in a sheet.

Her blue eyes widen. “Oh shit, Liv. What’s up?”

“What are you—”

Harriss appears in the doorway beside her and rests his hand on her shoulder. Fiona’s cheeks flush, and she drops her head.

“Hey, Harriss.”

“Liv. I’ll give you two a moment.” He disappears, and Fiona slips into the hall, shutting the door behind her.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He cheated on me with Valentina. But when I saw him after the fire—I don’t know. Something just clicked.”

“Did he approach you?” I ask, recalling the way he’d predicted she’d give him a second chance.

She shakes her head. “All me. I just, I don’t know. I needed release.”

I throw up both hands. “Listen, as someone who has not been sexually touched by a man in twelve years, I get it. Just guard yourself.”

“I will. He didn’t go back to her after we ended.”

“But he did it once.”

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