“Burn the mansion?”
“You think I did?”
“I don’t know what to think. You have a history of arson at the Heathens’ compound. Why did you do that, by the way?”
“Nothing you need to know about.”
“Then how about showing up in my room? I think I have the right to know why you showed up there of all places.”
“I was trying to find an escape.” And I could’ve used any balcony, but I subconsciously jumped into hers.
It was easier to spot considering the purple cushions and girly Plushies in the patio.
Back then, I wasn’t sure why I made that snap decision to get into her balcony, but now I do.
Even when I thought I had absolutely no interest in Annika Volkov and her annoying, chattering presence, I still looked for her when she wasn’t around. I never voiced it aloud, but I noticed when she wasn’t there.
Despite myself.
Back then, she didn’t come to the girls’ apartment for three days and was confined to her brother’s mansion.
And a part of me wanted to see her.
Her shoulders drop at my answer, but she says, “Is that what the second fire was all about? You couldn’t finish the job with the annex so you decided to widen your scope?”
“And risk your life in the process?”
“Small sacrifices for the greater good, right?” Her whole body goes rigid and her fingers tremble. She doesn’t want to believe her words even as she says them.
“If that’s what you think, we’re done here.” I get up.
Annika jumps up with me and grabs my arm. “Is it true?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. Do you believe I would hurt you, then save youandyour brother?”
She remains silent.
“Do you fucking believe that, Annika?”
“No,” she lets out in a small murmur. “But I want to hear it from you.”
“I would never hurt you.”
A long breath rushes out of her, and the light slowly returns to her eyes. She smiles a little and stands in front of me, close enough that I’m dwarfing her. “Outside of sex, you mean.”
“Outside of sex, brat.”
“What if it gets to be too much and I really can’t take it anymore? What do I do then?”
“Pick a word and say it. I’ll stop.”
“Ohh, like a safe word?”
More like a break from my darkness. But I nod. “Yeah, a safe word. What do you want it to be?”
“Violet,” she says without thinking. “I don’t like it as a color. It’s less superior than purple.”
“Why am I not surprised?”