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When Huck looked at me, he wasn’t impressed by the clothes or makeup or all the efforts that usually paid off with other men. For that reason, I decided not to bother with any of it when I walked out of the bathroom. My face was clean from makeup, hair tied into a messy topknot. I draped a silky robe over my nude body and cinched it at the waist.

Something had shifted in me today, and I didn’t know exactly what it was. But when I walked down the hall and Huck’s gaze landed on me, it wasn’t approval I needed. It was acceptance. His eyes were dark and hot as they swept over my frame, pausing to linger on my face.

“No makeup.” I shrugged.

“You never needed it to begin with,” he answered gruffly.

I sat down at the kitchen table and watched him cook. Whatever it was smelled delicious, and I was pleasantly surprised when he dished it up.

“Alfredo?” I examined the dish as he poured me a glass of wine. It was a brand I drank often, and I hadn’t seen it in the house until now.

“How much did Trouble tell you about me?” My nails bit into my palm as he sat down across from me.

He refused to make eye contact as he stuck his fork into the pasta. “She hung out with you for over a year, so she told me a fair bit.”

“And why was this important?” I gestured to the wine and pasta. “Why did it matter what I liked to eat or drink?”

He took a bite, choosing to ignore me. It was a simple question, but the rigid set of his body told me otherwise. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, and it only cemented my determination.

“What else do you know about me?” I demanded. “Who else did you recruit to spy on me?”

As he took another bite, my frustration took root as I dissected the words he wouldn’t say. He had more information on me than I ever could have known. The demon who lived inside me didn’t like that. She didn’t like being exposed, and his silence was dousing her temper in kerosene.

“Answer me.” My voice took on a life of its own. Heat licked at every surface of my flesh as my breathing accelerated. The spiral had started, and I couldn’t stop it. Huck must have noticed. He’d seen it happen once before when Lucian hurt my sister, but he wasn’t doing anything to stop it. He wasn’t even trying. My head felt like it was going to implode. Rage simmered inside the cauldron of my heart, quiet and calm before the tidal wave of fire.

“Tell me, Huck.” My voice cut through the vacant silence. “Tell me all the dirty, sordid details you collected about my life.”

His fork clattered to the plate as he finally turned to look at me. And he must have known it was the wrong choice. He must have known his words would provoke me.

“Everything,” he said. “I know every goddamned thing there is to know about you, Birdie. Except for what’s in your mind. Those are the only secrets you can ever keep from me.”

Blackness seeped into my vision, and I felt my control slipping away as I lunged at him. The demon was taking over. She became the master, and I the slave. Garbled words flew from my lips as I tried in vain to eliminate the threat. He couldn’t know my secrets. He couldn’t know my past. My fists pummeled anywhere I could reach, and Huck just took it. Every time I launched at him, I expected him to stop me, but he didn’t. He let me keep going, and it only infuriated me more.

“Fight back!” I screamed. “Fight me, goddammit!”

I was out of breath and full of hatred for myself when he finally gave in and took mercy on me. Before I could even make sense of it, he had me in a vise grip, completely locked down beneath the weight of his body.

“Stop,” he commanded.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. The demon wanted to have her way, and there was no negotiating with her. He should know that. If he claimed to know every filthy thing about me, he should know I was truly capable of anything.

“Birdie.” His voice softened when he gripped my face in his fingers, trying to focus my attention on him. My breath was erratic and unsteady while my heart pounded so violently in my chest I thought I might die. And to my absolute horror, wet tears had begun to leak from my eyes.

“Birdie,” he repeated. “Look at me.”

Somehow, I managed to do that much. My vision was blurry and unfocused, but his face became clearer as I blinked away the pain.

“You don’t get to know me,” I sobbed. “Not unless I say so.”


Tags: A. Zavarelli Sin City Salvation Romance