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Fucking. Michael.
“Hannah, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his arms coming around me as if I’m a small child.
I open my mouth to tell him to let go of me, but the ringing in my ears stops me.
Fuck. My head hurts.
“I just found out you were here. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he murmurs, brushing the hair back from my face before catching a tear under my eye with his thumb.
It’s so delicate and tender, I almost forgive him for ever thinking he could force me to marry him.
—Said no woman, ever.
“Let go of me, you freak,” I grit between my teeth, feebly shoving at his arms. He releases me, albeit begrudgingly and I fall back to my ass on the hard concrete floor.
Mr. Legs climbs the wall again and I almost laugh. Good. Michael’s not welcome in his home.
“Hannah,” Michael growls under his breath. “I’m here to get you out.”
“No, you’re not,” I scoff. “You’re working with them.”
“I’m going to have you moved somewhere more comfortable.”
“Don’t,” I snap, sliding back against the wall. “I’d rather stay here with the massive spider on the wall. I can actuallytrusthim.”
“You’re acting like a child.”
“Maybe.”
“I can get you a bed. Something to eat. Get you out of those blood-stained clothes.”
I happen to like my clothes, thank you very much. Very apocalypse-chic.
“Why, so you can try to force me to marry you?”
He falls silent, searching my face.
“I wouldn’t have forced you.”
“That’s not what you said that night at the warehouse when you were burning the bodies of the women you raped and murdered. Or did you forget?”
“Whatever you saw—”
“What I saw,” I correct, “is you working for my mother to traffic people.Livingpeople. At least they were alive before you showed up.”
“They were members of a cult, Hannah. They couldn’t be allowed to hurt anyone else.”
I shake my head. “They weren’t. Their parents were. You know I met one of the men that you tortured? Dawson? Really sweet, but so scared and unstable after you and Missy got to him. It’s no wonder he tried to kill me. Whatever you guys had him hopped up on didn’t help either.”
“Just . . . black dahlia,” Michael rushes. “It kept them calm.”
“Oh, because rape when they’re unconscious makes itsomuch better.”
“I didn’t rape anyone.”
“No? What about my sister?”
I can see in his eyes the moment he realizes I know too much. No matter what he does, I won’t love him and for that, I may as well be dead to him.
