Breaking the kiss, I rest my forehead against hers. “Un-fuckin’-believable.”
Her laugh is soft but regretful. “I’ve missed you.”
I’ve been stuck to her side like glue, but I know what she means.
“Fuckin’ guarantee I’ve missed you more.”
“We’ll pick this up later.”
“Don’t fuckin’ doubt it,” I warn, releasing her.
I adjust myself and walk toward the door. Before I open it, she says, “No more talk of finding a house. We’ll do life on our own terms. You, me, and River.”
I grin. “I hear ya.”
The prospect is still stood, waiting, out in the hall.
“She’s refusing to drink.”
“Since when?” I ask closing the door behind me.
While I listen to the prospect tell me how it’s been twelve hours since she’s taken in any water, I’m thinking of how we can live here as River grows older as we head down the stairs.
The prospect hands me the key to Effie’s room on the floor below mine. She’s sat in the corner with her knees drawn up to her chest. She watches my every move as I move to stand over her.
“Is there a problem with my hospitality?”
Her gaze pins mine but I feel no intimidation coming from her.
“I thought you had balls, yet here I am, still alive.”
“So you plan on taking yourself out?” I crouch down and meet her eye to eye. “It’s not gonna happen. I haven’t ended you yet, cause I’ve had shit to do. You are not the most important part of my day. To be honest, I forget you’re here most of the time.”
A flicker of fear makes me grin. “If I held a vote, the level of violence I’d want to inflict on you would be shot down, so I’m going for the next painful thing. Slowly starving and withering away. You’ll get just enough a day to drag it out. Then, and only then, will I let you go. When I know you’ve suffered a hundred times worse than Ford.”
“I wanna make a deal!”
“Tut-tut. We’re long past making any deals, I’m afraid.”
I hold my hand out toward the prospect. “Pass me the bottle of water.”
The room temperature bottle hits my palm and I unscrew the cap. With my free hand, I grip onto her chin roughly and force my thumb into her mouth.
“Bite me and I’ll only enjoy it, though I promise you won’t like the repercussions. Keep your mouth open.”
It goes against every one of her instincts, but she keeps her mouth open, and I tip the bottle to her lips. The urge to ram the whole thing down her throat overwhelms me, not that I let it show.
I pour enough to keep her going and then pass the bottle back to the prospect.
“Make me do this again and I’ll fuckin’ water board ya.”
“I don’t think you’re going to do anything,” she retorts.
Now, she shouldn’t have gone and said that. To prove her wrong, I slide my blade out from my ankle holster. Before she can try to hide herself, I’m on her and have her arm locked in my hold. I ignore the prospect watching on with wide eyes. I do as I wanted in the first place. Instead of a thousand cuts, I complete eight. Carving Ford’s name on her arm. It’s not much but enough for her to see it every time the air bites into the open wound. Her screams grow louder the less I concentrate and once I’m done, her whimpers fill the room.
Pointing the knife at her, I grunt, “Don’t. Fuckin’. Doubt. Me.”
Tears stream down her face as she stares at her bloodied arm.
