Page 133 of Challenge Me

“I fixed what I needed to fix.”

“Oh, did you? And what about what I need?”

“That’s for you to deal with.”

“Fine.”

I latched onto his chair and yanked it backward. He scrambled, trying to dart away. Before he could, I hoisted him over my shoulder.

“Amir, put me down.”

“We’re going home.”

“You can’t just kidnap me.”

“I can, and I am. You don’t work tonight.”

“Amir.”

I let the door shut behind me and only took a brief second to lock it. After dumping Remi in the backseat, I made sure the child lock was engaged. He tried one door, then the next. He was climbing into the front when I sat down and pulled away from the curb. Putting my arm across the gap, I blocked him in. Even when he bit me, I didn’t remove it.

“This is a crime!” he shouted.

“So is threatening to kill someone.”

Dropping backward, he let out a huff of air. “He started it.”

I might have laughed at how childish it sounded, but my mind was too busy trying to decipher what that meant. I turned to look at him and quickly checked every spot of skin I could see, but there was nothing concerning outside of the darkness in his eyes.

Focusing on the road, I drove in silence. He didn’t try to break it, and he also didn’t attempt to escape, so that was better than nothing. By the time I reached the house, the air had grown thick with tension.

“Are you going to carry me again?” he asked with a heavy dose of snark.

I got out of the car, then opened the back door. He eyed me, both cautious and what I thought might be fearful. I planted one hand on the seat while I took his chin between my fingers.

“Did he hurt you?”

His eyes shifted to the side.

“If he did,” I continued, “he won’t have to worry about you killing him. I’ll do it myself.”

His lips parted, the only sign that I’d caught him off guard. I took his hand, and he let me drag him out of the car. I led him to the door, ready for him to bolt at any second. He cooperated until we’d made it inside, then he marched his ass all the way through the house to the bedroom.

“Remi,” I called as I tried to open the door. He’d locked me out of my own damn room. Thankfully, these weren’t hard to open.

It swung inward, and I found him in the bathroom. The sheet no longer covered the mirror, which made me feel more nervous, especially with the way he simply stared at his reflection.

“What is it?” I asked.

“There have only been a few times in my life when words escaped me. My pain bleeds into ink on a page, words that have the power to break and to mend. They get me through everything, but now . . .” He lifted his hand, and his fingers met the ones in the mirror. “I’m bleeding without words.”

“Is this about the dream again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Cole came by?”

Maybe the question was a mistake. It made his eyes snap up, and they were more dead than before.