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Of course, the “why” of that is still in question, but I’m becoming more and more determined to find out.
And then today, when he came to break my hunger strike, he came with ulterior motives, too. The threat laced in his voice. His splintered blue eyes. The way he constantly smells of vanilla and violence.
Everything about him feels like a well-orchestrated ruse to make a fool out of me.
The sad part is how well it’s working.
There was a moment there, when we stood inches from each other. He’d stared down at me with the kind of intensity that gathers heat. And I felt… something. I can’t be sure of what. But it was powerful enough to make me feel like the proximity between us wasn’t so bad after all.
Of course he’d knocked me back to reality with his casually cruel words. Words I can’t forget, even now, hours later.
You were a convenience for him back then. Just as you’re an inconvenience for me now.
The point of which was… what? To make me feel like a fool? To hurt me? To try and tell me that he knew more about my life with Adrian than even I did?
None of the answers are good ones. None of them make me feel good.
Then again, he never promised to make me feel good. He’s promising to keep me safe, offer me protection. Although, he still hasn’t told me why I’m in danger in the first place.
So fuck his good intentions. And fuck his mind games. I will not let him destroy what I had with Adrian. It wasn’t easy, but it was mine. It wasours.
I flop back on the bed, retracing the same mental footsteps again and again. I lie there for an hour, and by the time I’m sick of it, I’m no closer to figuring anything out.
Escaping is no longer an option. I gave that a shot and it went to complete shit. But I figure that if I stay within the perimeters of my cage, I’m free to fly about where I like.
It’s not like I have any other great ideas. If I step in this room a second longer, I might blow my brains out.
I get up and pad to the door. When I test the knob, it’s unlocked. That’s mildly surprising, but I decide to take it in stride. I push it open and peek out into the hallway.
Silence, thick and unrelenting.
I hold my breath and wait. When I’m convinced no one is around, I leave my room and take the stairs down one level.
I smell notes of Lysol hanging underneath the geraniums and roses glistening in vases on the windowsills. Someone’s just cleaned this wing of the house.
I slip into the first room I find. This time, I keep my eyes out for a well-dressed blonde with perfectly plucked eyebrows.
What do you think you’re gonna find?Adrian scoffs in my head.
“I don’t know,” I whisper under my breath. “Evidence. He killed a man right in front of me, right? I’m willing to bet there are more skeletons in his closet.”
Ever thought about the skeletons in mine, babe?
This room doesn’t have any skeletons belonging to anyone, however. It’s a guest bedroom, neatly furnished but utterly lifeless. If anyone ever slept here, it was a long, long time ago.
I keep roaming. Every room I enter is sparse and desolate. There are gorgeous paintings on the walls and complex pieces of furniture in every nook and cranny. But each one feels like a display room. A place to look at, not a place to live.
The atmosphere has the stench of false freshness. Cleaning products, floral arrangements changed daily by a dutiful staff. But it only makes it all feel that much deader.
I open every cupboard I find. I snoop through drawers. I even go so far as to get on my hands and knees and check the spaces under things. Under sofas and beds and cabinets standing on four stout feet.
And as I do, I find nothing but bare, polished tile. Bare, shining hardwood. Bare, supple carpet.
I’m starting to feel the uselessness of this dumb little scavenger hunt. If Kolya has gotten away with murder for this long, who am I to think that one evening’s investigation can incriminate him? Those splintered blue eyes have looked down on much tougher enemies than me and come away victorious.
You like his eyes, do you, babe?
“Shut up.”
