And, for some reason, Hayden Herron is the only thing remaining. Now all that’s left to find out is why he’s all I havenow. Did the Brotherhood assign us together? Did he make some pact with my brothers before their death considering my fate?
I suck in a sharp breath, suddenly unable to bite back my anger. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
A small, cruel smile ghosts across his lips. “Hayden Herron.”
“Obviously,” I snap.
I know his name. I know his face. I know the way my body reacted to him before I knew who he was. Back at school, between dormitories, with vodka burning my throat, I felt a pull. But I don’t know him. I didn’t know he was the devil then, or what sick and twisted involvement he’d end up having in my family's demise.
If he even was involved.
My gaze flickers to the ring on his hand again. The markings. “What is this ownership you seem to think you have over me?” I accuse.
For the first time, a flicker of something crosses his face. Amusement? Annoyance? It’s gone before I can catch it.
He twists the ring slowly. “I don’t answer to you.”
A sharp pulse of something hot and electric courses through me. I hate him. I hate him.
“Well you’re going to answer my questions,” I sneer, but I can’t look away.
“Why take me?” My voice is quieter now.
This time, he doesn’t hesitate, “Because you belong to me now.”
A shiver slides down my spine.
I shake my head, lips parting, breath stuttering. “That’s not—”
He turns to me quickly, and a finger curls under my chin, tilting my face toward him. I hate how my pulse spikes, and my throat goes tight.
“Don’t waste your breath arguing, darling,” his voice is slow and deliberate. “Your father is dead. Your brothers are dead. And you?” His thumb drags lightly along my jaw, his touch a contradiction to the intensity of the moment. “You should be careful if you’d like to avoid the same fate.”
I suck in a breath and try to shake him off, confused by the feelings his touch gives me and the violent pain his words shoot through me.
Is this a threat or a promise?
Hayden’s gaze darkens, and for a second, I think he might tell me something worthwhile. But then he releases me just as easily as he took hold of me, leaning back against the seat, exhaling a slow breath.
I realize I’m shaking, with more questions waiting on my lips.
“Don’t ask questions I won’t answer, because, as I’ll remind you,” he murmurs, “You belong tome.I don’t owe you anything other than taking care of my property.”
My hands curl into fists. “You can’t keep me. I’m aperson,” a tear rolls down my cheek, bitter and full of grief.
“I can,” he says, but his tone conveys how little my questions mean to him.
The city vanishes behind us, swallowed by the blackened highway. I twist in my seat, watching as the skyline, the estates tucked into the large groupings of trees, fade into the horizon, the last piece of my world slipping away.
It’s just darkness now, small little lights. I couldn’t even say goodbye.
The silence between us thickens, pressing against my ribs. The weight of it is unbearable, yet Hayden sits in it so effortlessly, so completely at ease in my unraveling.
I turn back toward the front, my throat tight, “Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He only glances at me, then out the window, his fingers resuming their idle game with that ring, skull and crossbones, small but unmistakable, a whisper of death wrapped around his pinky.
I don’t know why, but I feel colder and begin to shiver. He doesn’t offer me his coat.
