But Jojo doesn’t leave entirely. He steps away, eyeing the situation like he might intervene should the tension escalate.
There is hostility and confusion. There is pain and there is anger. This room is suddenly filled with complicated emotions that is making Savage feel like he did at the start of his capture: lost.
“Speak,” Savage demands gruffly, returning his attention to Skye.
Her lips are parted. “And say what?”
He paces faster. “Why are you here, Skye?”
She gives him a strange look. “Why areyouhere, Hunt?”
“Hunter is dead,” he repeats, harshly, nostrils flaring with disgust.
“He is very much alive,” she replies softly.
“No.”
“Hunt—”
“He’s dead—”
“Stop saying that!” she shouts.
He storms to her, and her words die as he towers over her, his entire body trembling with rage and suppressed emotion that is pressing against his being, begging to be let out. His teeth clench, his desperation bleeds out of his eyes as he stares desperately at her, growling, “Look me in the eyes, Skye. Lookintome. Do youseethat? Do youseeme? Now tell me, flower, where the fuck is Hunter?”
She starts to quake, peering into him. He can feel her poking around the edges, can feel his soul slither beneath his skin as he opens himself to her. His eyes grow darker, his face hard and cruel. He looks demented—monstrous and unnatural. She’s seeing what he is, what he had to become to survive.
With a faint cry, she says, “He’s gone.”