He draws his knife from his pocket. I don’t outwardly react even if my heart rate picks up. I don’t want to die, but more urgently, I don’t want Alejandro to kill him prematurely.
“Patrick, were you the one who shot into the hotel room?”
“No, that definitely wasn’t me. You know I would’ve hit the right person if it had been.”
“What about my kidnapping and the explosion?”
“The explosion was a hidden blessing. It didn’t kill you or Alejandro like it was supposed to. It got rid of the two people who could’ve stolen that satisfaction from me.”
“You never once made it clear you wanted something more from me.”
“If I had, would you have been with me?”
“No.”
I answer the question honestly because he’d know if I lied. He glowers at me, not appreciating my bluntness. I press on.
“Patrick, you’ve always known there was no chance between us. Even if there were, did you really want me that badly?”
I don’t believe for a moment this is about unrequited love.
“No. But I’d rather no one have you than that piece of shit.”
“What do you have against Alejandro?”
“You want him.”
The man is truly not right in the head. He doesn’t want me enough to ever make it clear he wants more than our few one-night stands. Yet he won’t let me be with anyone else. He’s so committed to that he’s willing to die for it.
“Patrick, what’re you hoping to gain from all of this? Do you want me dead?”
“Not particularly, but I accept the inevitable now that you’ve chosen him.”
I inch closer to him. I’m certain Alejandro’s having a conniption right now. I can hear his snarly voice in my head. And my ass has phantom pains from the spanking I’ve earned.
“Tell me what I can do to end this, Patrick.”
“Will you beg for his life?”
“If I have to.”
“Will you beg for your own?”
“If you insist.”
I take another two steps forward, bringing me nearly within his reach.
“Would you fuck me to save his life?”
“If that’s what it would take, I’d never willingly do that.”
A man would have to force me before I’d voluntarily betray Alejandro like that. What I already did was bad enough, but Patrick doesn’t need to know.
“Is that what it’ll take?”
I lift the hem of my shirt, and his eyes dart to the bandage over my ribs.
“Was that you? Did you orchestrate the nurse and the shootout at the hospital?”
