I still don’t know what that means.
Chapter 9
Malachi
“Sir, she’s coming down now.”
“Good. Have the car brought around.”
I wander out into the main foyer and pluck a white flower out of the vase, snapping the stem to thread it through my button hole. It’s all too formal for my liking, but this is what she needs. I’d rather we stayed in bed and fucked the night away so I could enjoy that feeling she was beginning to give me, but this is a process now.
And she needs rebuilding.
Perhaps recreating.
The vision in green that eventually glides down the stairs towards me makes me go blank. Everything sways, as she makes her way to me. That’s not it, though. It’s the look on her face. She’s irritated under those dark red lips – with me probably. I don’t mind that at all. She’ll find her way better through anger than she ever will through maudlin and depression. I know well where that leads. It isn’t towards any form of contented life.
She lifts the dress a little, holds it out of her way as if it’s another frustration in her life that she doesn’t need. That, I agree with. She should be naked. In fact, I might even prefer her in my clothes if I’m truly honest with myself. Which is oddly senseless.
Either way. Alice Contreas is owning both me and my stairs at the moment.
I reach out for her at the last step and take her hand in mine. “Stunning.”
She looks around, glares at everything. “I’m not ready for this.”
“And yet here we are. Ready for sordid adventures into the unknown.” I link her arm through mine and wait for the door to be opened. “I’ll enjoy peeling you out of this dress. Or fucking you in it.” The frown deepens on her face. “What’s the corsetry like?”
“Uncomfortable.”
I chuckle, as we make our way out into the night. “Good.”
The car journey is slow, deliberately so. I don’t speak either. I let her adjust to this outside world again. She sits still the entire time, occasional glances outside showing her nerves. Perverted as it might be, I enjoy those nerves on her. They reek of hunting her, of finding her and devouring the skin I’ve missed. Charming as this time has been in some ways, I’m bored of care and tender touches. I need her fire back and her strength so I can play with it. If this is to go anywhere other than me protecting her and appeasing my own guilt, she needs to be who she was more than she currently is.
Arriving at the restaurant under the cover of darkness passes by quietly. She flusters and looks at me the moment we’re inside the elevator, more worry engrained on her features. Perhaps the venue is unusual to her, or me in this tux. Or maybe she’s still thinking of men who fucked her without consent. Regardless I keep staring at her in the mirror, as we travel through the floors, until she shakes herself back together and smiles at me a little. Still fidgeting, though. I don’t know why. She has more right to be here than any of us do. She’s morally sound.
“You’re worthy, Alice. You do understand that, don’t you?” She seems shy about that as she looks up at me. “You should understand it. Whereas we – the corrupt and divisive elite – are far from deserving. I’ll enjoy making sure you understand your worth to me.”
The elevator opens, and we’re greeted by Pierre and taken to my table by the window. Thankfully, that’s far enough from the pianist who seems to have forgotten how to play successfully.
“However, you need to understand the economics of humanity first.”
“What?” she says, sitting.
I take my chair and look around the room, nodding at a few others like me, as I unbutton my jacket. “I’d like you to understand my way of thinking. It will help you understand me. I talk, you listen. We’ll ease you into me again.”
The server flicks a napkin in her lap, produces a wine list. “Oh. Okay.”
I spend the next five minutes choosing wine and food and rambling aimlessly in chit chat. She doesn’t really speak, nor does she look the slightest bit comfortable despite me filling the air for her. And by the time dinner is brought to us, she still seems uncomfortable. I don’t like it.
It’s not my Alice at all.
“Do you know why I like fixing things?”
She looks up from her food. “We never got that far. You closed down.”
“I didn’t close down. I was opening up. In fact, I was searching for light far more readily than I ever have before.”
“Really? Why?”
