Page 72 of Cruel Possession
Hell, I don’t even know why I suggested letting her go.
The last thing I want to do is let her go.
But she’s not happy here. I can see it in her eyes, and after getting reports on her conversation with Morgana, I have no reason to think she’s going to stay here and be more of a problem for me.
Zoe clears her throat and shuffles the papers around in front of her, sending the pen rolling off the desk and onto the floor. She leans over to get it. When she pops back up, her cheeks are bright red, and she can barely look at me.
I would give anything to know what’s going on in her head right now.
I want to understand her.
And the longer I stare at her, the more uncomfortable she becomes, glancing away from the eye contact and shifting in her seat.
“Zoe, it’s a simple question.” I sit up, leaning a little closer to her, setting her more on edge.
She lets out a slow breath. “I don’t know.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t understand what’s happening here.” She looks down at her nails before pushing up from the chair.
She paces from one side of the room to the other like an animal trapped in a cage. When she stops and looks at me again, a pit opens in the bottom of my stomach.
I don’t know what she’s going to say, and perhaps that’s the most unnerving part of this entire situation.
It’s not the way she stares at me, like she’s trying to see straight through me. I could deal with that. It’s more the way she looks at me like she might be thinking about staying. The way her gaze trails around the room, almost wistful when it lands on the family pictures sitting on the bookshelves.
Her staying is a thought that I shouldn’t hope for, but there’s a part of me that does.
She’s the only thing in my life that makes sense right now.
Zoe wipes her palms on her pants before turning and looking out the window, her spine stiff.
I want to press her, to get her to say something.
But she needs time.
I know I would if I was in the same position.
Finally, she crosses the room and sits back down beside me. “If I tell you I want to leave, are you going to kill me?”
“I don’t think I could kill you even if I wanted to.”
“You don’t want to?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.
“I haven’t really wanted to kill you in a long time.” I reach out and tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know that it might seem strange, but having you here has changed me. And I should kill you for all you’ve done, but it feels like you’re the only person who understands me.”
She traces her fingers over the scars on the back of my hand. “You changed your mind about what to do with me, then?”
“I’m not going to keep holding you hostage, but that doesn’t mean I want you to leave, either.”
The silence between us stretches.
I don’t know what to say to fill it, to erase the look of panic she shoots me.
Her lips press together in a thin line before she lets out a deep breath, swiveling from one side to the other in her chair.
Her gaze flickers to mine again. “Why?”
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