Bound to Cruelty - Page 14

“Then go analyze something else. I don’t need your assessing glances or your surveying stares, none of it. I’m not a man to be fixed or figured out.”

I snort. “I have zero interest in fixing you or learning anything about you I don’t already know. You’re here to keep me safe. That’s what I need to know, end of discussion.”

“And yet you asked me a far more personal question last night.”

I pick up my coffee to hide behind so he can’t see the heat in my cheeks. “That wasn’t a question; it was an observation. Since you’re the one who brought it up, are you a virgin? Will that be a problem for you? Acting like we’re spending time together.”

The corner of his lip teases upward, and he slides the tablet onto the table. “First of all, I’m insinuating we are fucking, not actually fucking you, so that’s none of your business. Secondly, it’s not your job to make observations about me.”

I sit back in the chair, still cradling my mug. “Fine. Are you investing any energy into figuring out who is hunting me, or should I get dressed and start working on that myself? Lord knows neither of us wants me here any longer than necessary.”

He rolls his eyes and pins me with a look. “We started working on that last night.”

“Between the drinking, or your erection? When did we get anything useful?”

His jaw tightens. I know I’m pushing him again, and I can’t fucking help it. Like poking a viper with a stick and hoping to stay out of range.

“You are such an entitled little brat. For your information, despite my body’s response to your very nice ass, and don’t worry, that’s not a compliment since you already know what you look like and how to wield your looks like a weapon, I was listening to the crowd. As of right now, no one at all is whispering about you, or your little coup.” He goes silent, scanning my face. “I’ll let you figure out why, for now.”

He snatches the tablet off the table again, resettling his light gray suit jacket, and continues to read.

Yeah, I can’t keep doing this. If I stay at this table, I’m going to punch him, and I don’t entirely trust that he won’t hit me back. I grab my mug and some toast off the cold stack in the middle of the table and retreat to my room.

For now, I’ll let him think he’s won. At the very least, maybe it will keep him off my back for a while.

I put the toast on my bedside table and stare at my phone, considering a call.

My other sister and I don’t have the same relationship Kai and I do. She’s been my friend, as much as my family, for years. As much as I long to hear her voice, I can’t bring myself to make the call. Not when it could get me caught and put her in danger.

As one of society’s best assassins, she’s always in danger, but she doesn’t get involved in political intrigue. In fact, the second she gets a whiff, she runs far, far away, leaving the politics to me and our parents. She’d be able to give me a read on my city, though, feel the tempo and let me know if I have a shot at taking back everything I’ve worked for over the past couple of years.

I put my face in my hands, knowing the tears are coming, and at least I can hide them away until my weakness passes. Until I get myself under control again.

Thinking about it makes things worse. I’ve lost everything. My parents trained me to lead the council, and I did. But now, without that, what am I? What the hell will I do with my life if I can’t retake my position and continue forward?

What the hell was it all for? All the sacrifice, the late nights, the unspeakable things I’ve done in the name of keeping my people safe?

I sit here on the borrowed bed and let myself mourn the life I’ve lost so suddenly. It’s not until I feel the bed dip beside me do I realize he’s come into the room.

I immediately shift to face away from him. Hell, all he needs is more ammunition to use against me. This is one more thing added to the list for him to mock me for. One more thing for him to poke and prod and punch.

“Go away. You don’t have any reason to be in here.”

His voice is soft when he answers, and I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. “You’re crying.”

That’s all he says, like that’s an answer to a question I didn’t ask him.

I swipe my cheeks and sit up, throwing my chin up despite my no doubt puffy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with. I’m not physically hurt, just fucking weak.”

Tags: J.L. Beck Romance
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