Page 57 of Promise of Destruction

I narrow my eyes on him, but he’s too busy gathering everything up to pay me any attention. When he finally looks up at me, it’s with the authority and sharpness I expect of him. “Got it?”

I nod, which seems to satisfy him.

“I’ll bring you something to eat in a moment.” He looks quickly around the room and spots the remote on my nightstand. He hands it to me wordlessly and then stalks out of my room, leaving me to wonder out loud,

“What the fuck is going on right now?”

thirty-seven

Soren

“Acheeseburger?”

His eyes flick to mine, leaving no room for argument. “Yes.”

My stomach has settled, the memory of the nightmare has receded, the fog has lifted, and he’s still here… serving me a greasy-looking cheeseburger on a lid from one of my mixing bowls. I take the makeshift plate hesitantly.

“I didn’t poison you.” He says, the hint of a smirk dancing in the corner of his lips.

His face is unshaven compared to when I ran into him at the bar the first night. I consider asking him if he’s been too busy stalking me to shave, but I don’t because it suits him. It serves to make him look edgier, the outside matching what I know to be on the inside.

Parts of him are soft and beautiful—the cut of his cheekbones and his bright eyes. Other parts are sharp and cruel like the wicked curve of his lips and the sinister arch of his eyebrow when he’s contemplating acting on some savage thought.

“And I didn’t drug it either. Twice in one night would be overkill.”

I look up from the burger to see the rise of his shoulders as he laughs. I catch a flash of a real smile, his white teeth. Something strange flutters through me, so I pick up one of the fries on the teal rubber lid.

“So, you just ordered a burger at four a.m.?”

“Calling that thing a burger is generous.” He mutters, looking at the thing in my hand. “It’s all that was available at the moment. I would have given you cold pizza, but I figured the way you guys were throwing your china all across the kitchen, it’s probably compromised.” He shrugs.

His casual admission sparks a realization in me. “You saw us?”

“You already know I’ve been watching you.” His smirk deepens and that damn dimple taunts me.

I bite my lip, thoughtful. I should be horrified, disgusted, angry. I should feel violated, disturbed, sick. But in truth, I don’t know how his admission makes me feel now.

“How?”

“How?” He laughs. “Why would I tell you?”

“Are you just camped out in my backyard?” I shrug. “Did you kill my neighbors and post up in their attic with binoculars?”

That earns me a laugh. I say ‘earns’ because the sound is a bit like a reward. “You can’t stop it.”

“I…” I open my mouth. “That’s not why I want to know.”

It’s a shameful admission that deepens the heat I already feel under his gaze. My brain almost feels like it’s melting, incapable of handling all that has happened in the last few days and the push and pull of my irrational emotions. I don’t think I’m scared of him watching me.

In some fucked up way, it almost feels like I have someone looking out for me. Maybe if I’d had that before my life wouldn’t have turned out so fucking wrong.

Except he’s the one who made your life this way.

Isn’t he?

Declan watches me, quiet with his own thoughts. He leans back, straightening.

“I’ll make you a deal.”