Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(22)

ETHAN





She was not just no one.

It was impossible for her to do everything she did if she was just a crazy woman.

That was the only reason she was alive. Why does it feel like I’m trying to convince myself that was the only reason?

“I know you’re awake,” I stated as she stirred in the bed. Her head tossed a bit before her eyes snapped open. Slowly she sat up, rubbing her temples. When she moved her legs and noticed the shackles she heaved out a breath then gave me her attention.

“If you want to tie me up and strip me down, Ethan, all you have do is ask.” She settled back on the pillows. “What are we about to fight about now?”

“You shot and poisoned me for one, you crazy—”

“You had me kidnapped, motherfucker. Were you expecting me to be sweet?” she shot back. “I matched what you dished out. You wanted to be underhanded and crazy and I gave it back to you. Next time just ask me out for fucking coffee.”

Why am I not killing her?

“How many people work for you?” I asked remembering my job…how the hell did I forget that?

The smile on her face grew wider. “Do you think I’m in the cartel? A rival family or something?”

“How do you have a mole in the Colombia police?”

“If I did, don’t you think your mole in the Colombia police would have told you about another mole? Or do you have shitty moles too?” she questioned, resting her chin on her palms now that she was laying on her stomach facing me.

“Where are the drugs?”

She smirked. “That’s an important question. Twelve tons is a lot, but to be fair, I doubt it was stolen from you all at one time. They must have been taking it bit by bit for a while. Does that upset you?”

For every question I asked she asked one in return, and she so obviously did it as an affront to me. I stared at her and she stared back.

“Should I torture her? Should I pretend to be kind? Should I just kill her?” she whispered softly, still looking at me. “You’re juggling those options right now, aren’t you?”

She bothers me.

“It bothers you that I know what you’re thinking, doesn’t it?” She giggled.

She bothers me a lot.

“Are you going to answer my questions?” I asked, ignoring her other statements.

“Yes, but in my own time, not yours.” She looked completely at ease. Amused, even.

“Why don’t you fear me?” I hadn’t meant to ask her that, but it just came out.

“Aww, that’s cute,” she replied and shook her head. “You look truly confused. You’re normally cold and sexy, but I like this look too.”

Kill her.

“To answer your question,” she smiled, “people only fear what they do not understand. I understand you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know your brokenness.” She tilted her head to the side as she looked me over. “It looks exactly like mine. Parents do the most damage, don’t they?”

I reached into my jacket and pulled out a vial and syringe. Instead of panicking, she came closer and offered her arm to me. I met her gaze, her grey eyes on mine, wide, clear, innocent, and calm. I said nothing as I stuck the needle into her arm. She didn’t flinch or look away as I injected the antidote into her.

“It’s cocaine,” I lied.

A smile spread across her face as she leaned closer. “I’ll live.”

“Because you’re determined to be my wife?” I slowly pulled the needle from her arm.

“No, because I’m determined to live a long life and die of natural causes, no matter what.” She fell back onto the bed.

“Then marrying me should not be your plan.”

“Why can’t I marry you and live a long life?” She snuggled into the fluffy pilllows. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

“You’re chained to the bed against your will,” I reminded her.

She tried not to laugh, “Do you really think I don’t know how to pick a lock? I’m here because I’m fine being here. When I’m ready to go I’ll make sure you know.”

“I’ve already searched you—”

“How well?” she asked with dangerous grin on her face. “You’re calmer today. I prefer you this way. Plus, you brought me back to your side again. If you thought I was a threat wouldn’t you have just killed me already? You keep hesitating; you keep coming back to me.”

“You are a threat. I simply want answers.”

“The desire for answers is the same as having an interest in something. I’m sure you’re smart enough to piece together what I’ve done after you kill me. You don’t need me for work related answers…you are interested in me personally.” She reached up and touched the side of my face. “You’re cute when you’re clueless about your own emotions.”

I grabbed her wrist, halting her motion. “My emotions are not your concern. Do you think I can’t see what you are? You’re a manipulative, megalomaniacal, social climber with no shame and a twisted sense of morals.”

“And so?” She nodded innocently. “You’re all of those same things, aren’t you?”