Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
This was why I was thin and looked sick. How was I expected to look after seeing those pictures of my father and brother with gunshots in their heads?
Four
Madeline
Thankfully, the book I had chosen was good enough to draw me in and away from the reality I was currently in. I’d spent most of the day reading on the balcony. Alone. Another thing to be thankful for. Huck had only appeared at noon with yet another plate. This one had a turkey sandwich and a banana. He had simply ordered me to eat after placing it and a glass of ice water beside me.
I had eaten after he went inside, of course. My stomach had felt better, and I was giving all the credit to the story I had escaped into. I hadn’t been able to read the romance novels Saxon had brought me, but this was a thriller and had me completely enthralled.
When the door on the balcony opened again, I looked up, thinking it was too early for dinner and I didn’t want Huck’s company. It wasn’t Huck. My heart felt as if it had jumped into my throat and blocked my airway.
Blaise’s gaze was locked on me as he stalked toward me. A frown between his brows and his mouth a tight line. I should get up and run, yell, hit him, something. Maybe scream at him to leave. Not sit here, but I was frozen. Unable to say or do anything. I hadn’t expected him. I wasn’t prepared to see him. Not yet. My heart wasn’t strong enough. It might never be strong enough.
He stopped in front of me and dropped down to his haunches as he studied my face closely. My breathing was erratic, and I suddenly wanted to cry. He was here. Reminding me of all I’d lost. All he had taken. All I couldn’t have.
“Madeline.” He said my name softly. Too softly.
Tears clogged my throat, and I hated myself for reacting like this. He was a murderer. He was evil. Yet I was fighting the desire to throw myself into his arms like a lunatic. The part of me that ached for him was too strong. Did that make me evil too?
“How long have you been getting sick?” he asked me.
I stiffened. He thought I was pregnant. I could see it in his eyes. It was as if he had taken a bucket of ice water and dumped it over my head. The sanity I had lost for a moment at the sight of him returned. The tears I had been fighting no longer stung my eyes, and I remembered that I hated him. I wanted to say all of that, but instead, I glared at him.
“Answer me,” he demanded in a low tone.
I closed my book and put it down beside me. I needed a moment before I spoke. No emotion needed to be evident in my voice. Blaise would not know how he affected me. When I was sure of myself, I met his eyes.
“Today,” I said in a clipped tone.
“You’ve lost too much weight,” he said, softer and with concern, as he reached up and rubbed the pad of his thumb over one of the dark circles under my eyes. “I need you to eat more, baby,” he said, and then his gaze roamed over me before returning to meet mine.
Hearing him call me baby felt like he’d reached inside me and twisted my heart. Stupid, stupid girl. I was not his baby. Not now. I should never have been. He was right when he had tried to save me from himself. Except he should have tried harder.
I would not be affected by him. I would not.
“Don’t call me baby,” I snarled.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “You can hate me. You can fucking wish I were dead. But you’re always gonna be mine.”
I let out a hard laugh, wanting to shove him and beat on his chest with my fists, screaming out all the pain he’d caused me. “No, I am not.”
His hand moved to cup my face as he leaned forward. “Yes, the fuck you are. When I told you that I would do anything for you, I meant it. Anything.”
Like killing my father and brother because they weren’t perfect. They’d had some issues. He would do that for me? I didn’t want that kind of help. He didn’t get to decide who lived and who died. He wasn’t God.
His other hand slid up my leg, and I jerked away from his touch. He wasn’t going to do that. Never again. Even if my traitorous body tingled from the contact.
He lifted his gaze from my legs back to my eyes. “Too fucking thin. Huck said he fed you today. Will you come inside and eat for me?”
I was disgusted with myself. Somehow, I had missed how depraved I truly was, but my body was making it clear to me. Because I couldn’t deny the urge inside of me that wanted to go curl up in his lap. The draw to him and the feeling that he could make all the bad go away if I went to him—it was insanity, yet it was there in my soul. Surely, I wasn’t that dark and twisted. There had to be a better excuse.