“I’m not going to kill her. I just want to fuck her and give you a hundred evil little grandchildren.”
“No.” Her voice cracks. “Let her go, please.”
I sigh and lean forward with my elbows resting on my knees. I toy with the syringe, weaving it through my fingers before finally removing the cap. Cynthia takes in the object in my hand. As panic creeps across her face, the color drains from her already pale white skin, and her breathing all but ceases.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks, her words inaudible.
“You know, I came here with Siân tonight, hoping you wouldn’t recognize me. You probably wouldn’t believe me, but I care about Siân, and for her sake, I wanted for you and me to get along. But then you went and sent her that text. I know you think the worst of my family, and you’re right to feel that way. We haven’t really made things easy for you.” I pause for a beat. “Actually, I’m a little thirsty. Do you mind if I get some water?”
Cynthia doesn’t answer me, but I don’t expect her to. I stand and walk over to the cabinet above the sink, checking each until I find the one with the cups. Then I open the fridge and remove the pitcher of water, pouring some into the cup.
Cynthia uses this moment to try to get away, except I expected her to make a move. Whipping the gun from behind my back, I aim it and shoot at the wall, purposely missing her head by a hair.
She freezes with her hands up in the air. “Okay. Okay.”
“Sit the fuck down,” I bark, my patience already slipping.
Cynthia shuffles back to her seat as I glance to my right to find Tony now up on his feet, blood dripping to the floor around him.
“You good?”
“Yeah. Through and through.” He snatches the hand towel from the hook near the sink and wraps it tightly around his wounded arm.
I hand my gun to Tony, who takes it right away. Holding up the syringe, I squeeze a little of the medicine out and stalk toward her. Cynthia flinches and tries to retreat, but there is nowhere for her to go. She’s quite literally stuck between a rock—me—and a hard place.
Up close and personal, I lean to her ear and say, “You’ve protected Siân, and for that, I’m grateful. I won’t kill the only family she has left, but I can’t have you telling her who I am. It’s too early for her to know.”
She nods in rapid succession. “I won’t. Just let us go, and you’ll never see us again.”
I search her face. “She’s mine now—forever.”
A yelp slips out of Cynthia when I jam the needle into her neck, but she’s instantly unconscious as I pump the drugs into her system. Over the next few minutes, we get rid of all signs that we were here, leaving nothing disturbed. When we’re done, I lift her over my shoulder, then take her to the trunk of Tony’s car.
We head our separate ways, him and Cynthia to a secluded location, and me back to my topolina.
22
SIN
It isn’t until everybody around me gets up and gathers their things that I realize class is over—and I sat here daydreaming through the entire thing. I don’t think I paid attention to a word of the lecture. And I’m still so deep in the brain fog provided by my conflicting thoughts that I move a little slowly, stumbling slightly as I get up.
A quick glance toward the front of the room tells me the instructor isn’t paying attention, chatting over something with his assistant. At least I have that going in my favor as I grab my things and hurry out of the hall with my head down. One thing I’ve always been dedicated to is my schoolwork, and my performance lately hasn’t exactly made me proud.
Not that I’m failing or anything like that, but I’m not as on top of things as I could be. Mainly because my thoughts are always wandering. Most of the time, I wish I could be home—rather, Christian’s apartment. It’s so easy to think of that as my home, so tempting to imagine living there always. Over the past couple of weeks, everything’s been just about perfect.
Which is where the reason for my distraction comes in. When I’m not wishing I could be home, I’m wondering why the people who are most important to me have drifted out of my life since he entered it. Kyla hasn’t said a word to me since the awkwardness we shared the day I moved out. She must still be upset with Christian, though I can’t imagine why. I know she thinks she’s being a good friend, but I was hoping this would have blown over by now. That after a few days, she would stop ignoring my texts and at least try to talk to me. I could use an explanation, and I think I deserve one. Why is she so determined to hate him?