Page 11 of Carnival

Rose

T hree questions.

James continues to look at me, his expression blank, though I can see a glimmer of something like excitement in his eyes.

Questions upon questions run through my head, and it’s impossible to pick just three and get all the answers that I want.

I could either focus on the aspect of this room and what James actually wants from me, or I could ask about my parents and figure out if he knows anything.

Either way, I’m not going to be satisfied with the answers.

My hands curl around the soft blanket, draping it over my lap. The scent of lavender hits my nose, and for reasons unknown to me, my body starts relaxing, the thick tension leaving my shoulders, yet my mind remains swamped.

“Alright,’’ I swallow a knot in my throat, back straightening slightly. James looks as unbothered as ever, leaning back into the chair and folding his arms in front of his chest. Even though he’s wearing a thick hoodie, I can see the outline of his biceps, the way they flex when he shifts his arms.

“Go on then.’’ His voice is filled with amusement that he doesn’t even try to hide. “I’m not a very patient man, hellion. You’d best ask the questions soon, or I might not be willing to answer them.’’

A scowl is on my face, but I take a moment to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths. If he’s giving me the leeway of asking only three questions, I need to figure out how to articulate one question but for him to answer more than the question itself.

“This room… you said it used to be mine. I want an elaborate answer on how you would know that.’’

He chuckles. “Ah, a clever approach. Not that I expected anything less from you.’’

“Tell me.’’

He quirks a brow at the demand in my tone but chooses to ignore it. He tilts his head to the side, eyeing me up a couple of times.

“You and I were in the same foster house.’’

It feels as if someone had slapped me. Wind gets knocked out of my lungs, and all I can do is stare at his face.

I don’t blink, don’t move, and don’t breathe for what seems to be an eternity.

Cold sweat drips down my forehead, my throat closing in.

Suddenly, my heart picks up the pace, rapidly beating against my ribcage, and I’m shocked it hasn’t jumped out yet.

“What?” I manage to croak out a breathless whisper, spilling from my lips, the desperation undeniable. My knuckles turn white from the intense gripping on the blanket, and it’s as if my limbs are frozen, and I’m unable to move an inch.

The memories I don’t have, the memories I haven’t been sure I wanted to return to, are the same ones James has. Of me. Of himself. Of us. I don’t know what to make out of his answer, because whatever I thought he’d answer with, it definitely wasn’t something like this.

“I’m feeling oddly generous,’’ James muses, the undertone of mockery cutting through me like a knife.

“You were four when your parents died, and you were put in a foster home, though the family was… well, bad. When you turned seven, you were placed with a different family, the Cooper family, where, coincidentally, I was living. This was your room in their house.’’

His words echo in my ears, and a ringing sensation follows. My body still refuses to move, and the more he speaks, the more I’m curious, with too many questions running through my mind.

“Why? How?” The words splutter from my mouth, the surprise at the revelation evident on my face. I search his face, unmoving my gaze, looking for anything to explain what the fuck I just found out, but as always, the perfectly aloof expression is on his face, unwavering under my scrutinizing stare.

“Is that your second and third question?’’

My jaw clenches, teeth clattering together. James is finding this entire situation hilarious, and although he’s trying not to show it, I can tell that a glimmer of amusement is there, mocking me.

“No,’’ I mumble, averting my eyes from him.

For a while, it’s silent, except for the sounds of our breathing and my heartbeat.

Somehow, the room feels smaller, more suffocating, the tension pressing against my chest. Slowly, my eyes flicker back to James, only to find him already staring at me intently.

There’s something behind the smoldering stare, a hint of doubt and uncertainty. He masks well, hiding the emotions with ease. He’s used to this, I can tell. He’s not the one to openly show his emotions unless they’re bordering on rage and fury, and it doesn’t take a lot to set him off.

“You’re overthinking it, hellion,’’ he mumbles, voice raspy and low.

Tingles spread through my skin, and I try focusing on his voice instead of the complex emotions that squirm inside me, though his voice seems to be enough to invoke a chain reaction.

My heart flips, my stomach twists, and a shiver runs down my body, the sensations unstoppable.

“Then,’’ I pause, figuring out what to ask him next.

The question slips through my lips before I can think about it, and in some ways, it’s better like that.

The more I overthink, the less certain I am of the questions I want to ask him.

“What happened in their house that made me… not remember a single thing?”

It’s like I summoned the devil himself.

James’ eyes darken a shade, pupils dilating slightly.

His body tenses, shoulders go rigid, and he stares at me, unblinking, unmoving.

The tension in the air thickens, making it difficult to breathe.

An eerie feeling creeps up my neck, the small hairs standing up, the anticipation of his answer slowly killing me on the inside.

His jaw unclenches, and he takes a deep breath, though the intensity of his gaze doesn’t subside. In fact, it intensifies with each passing second, and I’m close to passing out. The air gets knocked out of my lungs, and I’m impatiently waiting for the answer.

It’s like I can hear the smallest details, my senses sharpened.

His throat bobs, Adam's apple moving as he swallows, the sound reaching my ears. His thick eyelashes flutter with each time he closes his eyes, my own unable to move from him. It’s like a magnetic pull, and I’m not strong enough to resist it.

“Veto,’’ he says.

I’m broken out of the trance, blinking away the thoughts. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.’’

A scoff of disbelief falls from my lips, brows raising to my hairline.

He breaks eye contact first, looking at the wall and not meeting my gaze again.

Anger bubbles inside me, threatening to jump to the surface.

My hands tighten the grip on the blanket, and I’m momentarily shocked. What the fuck is wrong with this man?

“Answer the question.’’

“No,’’ he scoffs, almost as if offended by the demand in my tone. “I vetoed.’’

“It doesn’t work like that.’’

“It works the way I say it fucking works. My game, my rules.’’

I’m one second away from slapping the shit out of him, but I try to regain my composure and, with a deep breath, try to think of happy thoughts, because the ones that are running through my head are far darker than I’d like them to be.

“I don’t want to play your games, James.’’

“You have two questions left.’’

The pride in me jumps out, and the decision is made in a split second.

Maybe, a few hours, days, or even years down the road I’ll regret it, but right now, all I can focus on is his inability to cooperate, and I’m no longer interested in anything he has to say, given that the biggest question of my youth is something he can answer, yet refuses.

“No questions.’’

He lifts a brow, clearly displeased. “Are you sure? You won’t get another chance.’’

“Positive,’’ I grit out.

I can practically see cogs starting to turn in his head, a moment of shock passing between us. He’s silent, calculating, and figuring out his next move. However, this is the first time I can tell what he is thinking.

He’s pissed.

Oh, how pretty anger looks on him.

His brows are scrunched together, and I can tell that he didn’t expect I’d back down on this.

And by the looks of it, he doesn’t like being outsmarted.

If he’s expecting me to remember what happened during the time I spent in foster care, it won’t happen.

I’ve been in therapy for a long time, and not once did I remember anything.

Not the people who I was with, where I was, or for how long, let alone details of their personalities, names, and such.

It’s been completely blocked out of my head.

“Fine, then,’’ he responds, voice low and filled with irritation. “Just don’t expect I’ll be answering any of your questions afterward.’’

I shrug. “I don’t need your answers.’’

“Alright, now you’re just being stubborn.’’

“Well, since apparently, you’ve known me for a very long time, you should’ve known that by now since it didn’t change over the years,’’ I mock.

He rolls his eyes, his upper lip twitching in something that resembles a smile before it’s gone. Just like that, he’s void of emotions yet again, the darkness of his eyes reminding me of an abyss, one that is too deep and twisted. Who knows what I’d find in there?

“You haven’t changed at all, hellion.’’ For a split second, his voice softens. There’s deep longing in the voice, and a jolt of something unexplainable runs through my body, leaving me with more questions than I originally had.

“I want to leave.’’

His eyes snap to mine, lips pulled into a thin line. “No.’’

“Yes.’’

“No.’’

“Yes,’’ I draw out, feeling annoyed all over again. I swear, this man acts like a petulant child, and it’s not a good look. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you that I want to leave. And don’t think for a second that I forgot the method you used to bring me here.’’

“Stop being dramatic,’’ he rolls his eyes. “You’re perfectly fine.’’

“Yeah, luckily. That could’ve gone terribly. I could’ve been allergic to the substance you used, or you could’ve missed the spot and caused me to bleed out.’’

“You’re not allergic to anything, and by now, I know where to fucking inject a needle.’’

“How would you know if I’m allergic to anything?”

He gives me an exasperated look. “I know everything there is to know about you. In fact, it seems that I know more about you than you do,’’ he flashes me a teasing grin, the mockery reappearing in his eyes.

I choose to ignore it and the flames that are ignited in my chest. “I want to leave, James.’’

“Not yet,’’ he says. “I’m not done with you just yet.’’

“Then tell me what you want from me.’’

“I can’t tell you that.’’

“Why not?”

“I just don’t want to,’’ he shrugs. “But if you so much as think of escaping, I’ll drag you back, chain you to the damned bed, and make sure you don’t see the light of the day again.’’

“Is that a threat?”

He chuckles, the velvety, deep voice ringing in my ears. “A promise.’’

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice a whisper. It’s not intended — but it’s out before I can control it, the vulnerability in my voice causing me to pause and recollect myself. I’ve never been the one to openly show weakness, and I don’t intend to do it now.

Yet, he catches me off guard constantly.

It’s been two days — excluding that one night two years ago — and he’s all I can think about.

The way he looks at me is driving me to the brink of insanity.

He wants to unravel me, to see past the front I’ve been putting on, and to mold me into the person he wants me to be.

Why does that not sound terrible?

My eyes are glued to him as he moves, rising from the chair and standing in front of me. He puts his index finger under my chin, tilting it upward to meet his gaze. Every rational, sane thought flies out the window the moment he inches closer, his breath mingling with mine.

His eyes flicker down to my lips, then he returns them to my eyes.

I can’t explain what I’m seeing — an obsession so deep that it threatens to ruin me, a possessive gleam that he’s struggling to hold back, and most importantly, desire as dark as the night, as vicious as if the Devil himself had come to claim me.

And James will claim me.

It’s only a matter of time, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I already belong to this man, wholeheartedly, mind, body, and soul. He’s holding them hostage, with no intention of ever letting go. The darkened look in his eyes is a sadistic promise — for as long as I’m alive, I’m his.

“Because I’ve waited for so long for you, hellion,’’ he murmurs, my body reacting to his softly spoken words. “Because two years ago, you waltzed in, and you were already mine. I just need to remind you of that. That’s the best answer you’ll get.’’