He scowls. “Malachi. She was your wife, don’t tell me it means nothing.”
I laugh lightly, amused that he would think marital vows mean anything to me. He should know how little they mean to anything given his own recently rectified situation. “She was a bitch, Gray. The world, and I, are better off for her death.”
“You can’t hide this.”
“I can do anything I want. Another thing you know well enough. Who else knows?”
“Lucian, Joel, Damien, obviously. Hannah, Karl. No one else that I know of. I’ve kept it that way until we found you. Her body’s in the infirmary.”
A maid enters the room just as he’s about to make more of the conversation. There isn’t anything to say as far as I’m concerned. Although, I would like some clarification as to who actually killed her. Little Alice needs to remember her movements.
“Coffee and pancakes,” I order, looking at him with a brow arched.
He shakes his head and walks to the chair, bedding himself in for more conversations no doubt. So I send the maid off and settle in the chair opposite him, still smiling and now beginning to laugh a little more heartily.
“So this is what freedom feels like,” I murmur.
He snorts, shakes his head again. “Could you be any more callous?”
“I have a feeling I’m going to have to be. I want some answers.” She said she saved me. Saved me from badness. “Wicked little Alice.”
He looks up, shocked. “You think she did this?”
I smile. “Possibly.”
“Why?”
“To save me. Which I think is what you asked her to do, isn’t it?” Hot flowers and wildfire. Special little Alice – my tiger. My little killer who talks straightforwardly. “I can just imagine her hunt, can’t you? Spectacular.” There’s something stirring lower inside me now, something that I need to find to break all this endlessness. “She protected me from all threats, just like she saves me from death.”
Perhaps we’ll have some fun first before I make her remember. Play.
I’ll watch and she’ll run – run like the wind for me.
And then we’ll be honest some more.
Chapter 15
Ally
I’ve been sitting on this toilet for fuck knows how long, questioning everything. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but nothing about that man makes sense. One minutes he’s quiet, contemplative and I think we’re getting somewhere, and the next he’s forcing his dick down my throat in some show of aggression or control.
And then the orgasm I got in return was mind-blowing. Like, screw it have my soul type mind-blowing because I can’t hold myself together any more. In fact, it’s damn rude how good that was, and I shouldn’t be thinking about that but I am because who wouldn’t?
But then he’s sleeping quietly and we’re both sated. Again.
His arms around me, protecting me. Holding me.
And it's all so beautiful in its own strange way.
So mysterious and tempting in its unknown state.
And then there’s fucking blood everywhere?
I shake my head, rocking back and forth. I’m not surprised those other people are constantly off their heads with whatever pill they can swallow down. Maybe it does make sense like that somehow. It’s easier when you can’t remember. But it sure as shit doesn’t make sense like this when there’s feelings involved. Who rips their own scars open while they’re sleeping? I can’t even contemplate how I’m supposed to do this if I can’t sleep soundly knowing he’ll be okay while we do that.
My head comes up, both angry and scared eyes looking at the door I’ve locked. I just came in to look at him sleeping. I was relaxed, almost comfortable while he was peaceful. I thought I’d done something good, given him some quiet time, found some honesty between us, and then I came in expecting visions of masculinity in slumber, and there was blood – everywhere.
Just like mother – just like father.
