Don’t give her what she wants.And I won’t. Even if I can’t help thinking how nice it would be to use this butter knife on her. I might not be able to cut her with it, but I could jam it in her eye. I’m not a violent person, no matter who my dad happened to be. But I’ll be damned if she isn’t tempting me. The sooner I get out of here, the better for both of us.
Only that’s not what she wants. When she hops off the counter to block my way, I groan softly. “What are you doing? I just want to get back to my room.”
“Your room.” Her teeth show in a thin smile. “It’s his room. Not yours.”
“Whatever. All I want is to eat my sandwich in peace.”
“You don’t deserve peace. Did you ever think of that?”
When she takes a menacing step toward me, snarling like an animal whose cage was left unlocked, I back away with my heart hammering. We’re alone here. She could do whatever she wanted and get away with it. What does that mean for me?
“I didn’t do anything to hurt you.”
Something tells me that doesn’t matter. “Maybe I just don’t like you.” Her piercing, hateful glare makes panic touch the edges of my mind. Right now, I don’t care if she sees how nervous she’s making me. This has nothing to do with pride anymore.
“Even now,” she snaps, looking me up and down. “You walk around here like you belong. But you don’t. You never will. Not here, and not with him.”
Well, I guessed that one. That’s why she hates me so much.
She backs me up against the counter, with the wall just to my left. Trapped. “You don’t have the first fucking clue what he went through, what we both went through,” she whispers. “Here you are, living in luxury, acting like you earned the right. We both know you didn’t.”
“I didn’t ask for this. You remember that, right? You were there that night.”
“I was there,” she spits out. “And I should have done more than knock you down. I should’ve gotten rid of you when I could.”
“You didn’t,” I remind her, while fear and anger fight for control inside my overheated body. “I’m sorry if you feel like I’m getting in the way of whatever is between you.”
“You couldn’t do that if you tried for the rest of your life.”
My mouth opens. Satisfaction warms my blood. The words fall out of my mouth before I can think to stop them. “Sure, the two of you are so close—but I’m the one who sleeps next to him at night.”
Her eyes fly open wide like I hit her, and it was the last thing she expected. And then she launches herself at me.
“Let go of me!” I drop my sandwich on the floor when she takes a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back. I wrap my hand around her wrist, struggling to keep her from pulling too hard.
“Think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she hisses inches from my face. “So fucking pleased with yourself, you spoiled little bitch.”
She tugs, and I bite back my cry of pain before raking my nails across the back of her hand in desperation. She sucks in a sharp gasp before shoving me away, knocking the wind out of my lungs when I hit the counter edge.
“Not so clever now, are you?” She grabs me, taking me by the hair again. I know what she’s going to do before she does it, and the only thing that keeps my face from getting smashed against the counter is the arm I throw up in front of my nose to protect myself. When I jab my elbow back to hit her in the ribs, she lets go.
I’m in a haze of panic, working on instinct alone, when my hand closes around one of the knives in the block. I swing around holding it out, and Selina barks out a breathless laugh. “Oh, please. What do you think you’re going to do with that?”
I don’t know. That’s the thing. It might just be enough to keep her away from me. “Back off,” I warn, holding the blade out. “I don’t know why you’re doing this. I just want to be left alone.”
She shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
She’s on me in a heartbeat, twisting my wrist sharply and painfully, making me let go of the knife so she can take it from me. “Lesson one, bitch. Don’t pick up a weapon unless you’re ready to use it.”
A soft ping brings me back to reality. The elevator.Liam.
I look at her.
She looks at me.
Then, while I watch, she drags the butcher knife across her arm. “Shit!” She screams, dropping the knife to the floor, grabbing her arm as blood trickles through her fingers like magic.
I’m still sputtering in horror, trying to understand what I just witnessed, when Liam comes running in. “What the?—”
