I’d expected some kind of reaction to that, something to keep him from calling my bluff.
I got nothing but a self-assured smile. “You are lying,” he said.
“Why do you keep saying that?” I asked, hating that my frustration was showing.
“Because if you’re not, Todd won’t live to see the morning,” he said.
“Now who’s lying,” I said, using all of my strength to keep my voice from shaking.
And that motherfucker just laughed right in my face. “Now I know you’re lying, not that I doubted it before.”
I quirked a brow, asking my question without words.
“I know you’re lying because you’re a smart girl. And you know I would kill him without a second thought,” he said.
He was right, and though I knew that and knew that he knew that, I couldn’t make myself speak.
He tilted his head and then looked me up and down. “So quiet now, eh? No witty comebacks? No more stories about what you let a dead man do to you?”
He stared at me, and I stared back, my mind, my body, a riot of so many emotions I couldn’t even begin to name them all.
I stared at him then whispered, “I hate you.”
“I know,” he responded, his eyes glittering with emotion.
Before I could stop myself, I kissed him.