My mouth drops open to speak, but no words come out. Caden’s black hair is pushed back, messy and damp, hispiercings glisten in the afternoon sun. Why is this man so attractive, yet so horrid?
“What do you want, Elodie?” Caden says bluntly.
His tone snaps me from my admiring. “I was wondering…” I begin, clutching onto my IV pole like it will give me courage. “If you’ve gotten me some clothes? I’d like to bathe, but I have no other clean clothes to dress into.”
Caden winds the soapy rag around a finger, considering my inquiry. Alfie stares up at him, waiting.
Finally, Caden licks his teeth and goes back to his soap-coated bike. “You can get clothes when you earn them.”
My jaw drops. “Earn them? What the fuck do I have to do to earn my own clothes?”
Alfie lowers his head back to his magazine that he’s definitely no longer reading.
Caden doesn’t even look up from his bike as he continues. “So far, Elodie, all you’ve done is cause grief. You’ve been here a day. I’m not giving you anything until you prove your intentions are good here.”
“Intentions?!” This is outrageous. “I didn’t even want to come here in the first place! I was brought here against my will. I’ve been assaulted by two of you, and you’ve made me feel less than welcome since I got here.”
He straightens up, squaring his shoulders and fixing me with a sharp look. “I started off on the right foot. It was you who took a wrong turn. Stop whining like a child, attempt to get along here, then we can talk about clothes and other things.”
“Oh, what, like our wedding plans? How fucking exciting.”
Caden’s lip piercing wiggles as he fiddles with the inside of it impatiently. “This is exactly what I mean. If you talk to me like that, if you continue to be a little brat, you’ll get nothing.”
Rage is threatening to boil over. “Brat? This is insanity.” I look up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe this is all my fault. Clothesare a basic human fucking right. Unless you wish me to walk around naked?”
Alfie’s head whips up at that, a playful smirk on his lips. Caden’s eyes darken. “Don’t even think about it.”
I cross my arms. “Give me my own clothes then.”
“No.”
“This is ridiculous.” I run a hand through my hair, the other gripping the IV pole, shaking slightly. “So I am to prance around in your attire until you deem it that I’ve earned my own?”
He stares at me a moment. I don’t balk under that intense gaze. Then, he says, “Tell me the truth about your injuries. Give me a name, and I might consider getting you clothes.”
My scowl deepens despite the spike of anxiety shooting up my back. “Might consider?” I scoff. “I told you. I gave you a name.”
His throat bobs with a swallow. “I don’t believe you.”
“Not my problem.”
Caden licks his teeth, his patience thinning. “If you don’t give me the bare minimum by being honest, don’t expect the bare minimum from me by giving you clothes.”
I throw my hands up, exasperated. “You’re impossible. This whole situation is impossible. I’ve gone from one prison to another. I thought you were supposed to be a decent man, all honour and respect, but that’s all bullshit, isn’t it?”
Caden blows out a long breath, going back to his bike and scrubbing vigorously. “Elodie, everything in this world is earned. You will earn my respect. Once you start giving me a bit of yours. But I’m starting to think you have absolutely no idea of the meaning of the word.”
“So, I have to respect you off the bat, but I have to earn yours? Make that make sense.”
Dropping the rag, he picks up a hose and goes to the back of the bike. “I tried. Like I said, I started off with respect. It wasyou who threw it out the window. Now you have to earn it back. You’ve brought it all on yourself.” He turns on the hose.
Cool mist sprays in my direction as the hot rage bubbles over the brim. “You’re a criminal, Caden. You kill and sell people for money. You’re not royal. Not special. The Blackwood pretentious bullshit has gone to your head. You kill people and you preach like you’re some god who should be worshipped. You literally have tattoos to commemorate your oh-so-noble actions. Respect, my ass.” I gesture towards the deck of cards along his arm.
His eyes narrow in on me, a laser beam of threat searing straight through the water spraying between us. “You think that’s why I get the tattoos?”
I roll my shoulder. “I don’t really care.”
I see his knuckles turn white around the hose. “Good. Because you’re not worth the explanation. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
