“I want that number,” I tell her before taking another gulp.
“Okay…” She wrings her hands together, nervously.
I pull out my phone and swipe my fingers across the screen to unlock it. When she doesn’t say anything, I clear my throat. She jumps a foot off the ground, and I can see the moment her heart jumps into her throat.
After a second, she rattles off the numbers, and I punch them into my phone.
“Go start dinner,” I order brashly.
Fallon looks down at her feet, and for a second, she stands there, just stands, and I wonder if I’m going to have to threaten her or if she has something more she wants to say, but the words connect, and she walks into the kitchen, disappearing from view.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I down the rest of the whiskey. I place the glass back on the little bar top and stare at the illuminated screen.
My thumb presses the green call key, and I bring the phone to my ear. I’m not sure what I was expecting… but before I get the chance to put together a reaction, the phone says: the number you have dialed has been temporarily disconnected.
It’s by the grace of God that I don’t whip my phone across the room.
She lied to me.
I fucking know it. There is no way they would give her a number and have it be disconnected. They wanted her to find a way to reach them, which is why they gave her the number in the first place.
That means that not only did she lie to me, she purposely gave me the wrong number. She might be trying to protect her sister, but she’s going to end up getting herself hurt in the end. I won’t stop till I know who is behind this. Barely talking myself off the cliff’s edge, I walk into the kitchen. If she wants to play a game, then we both can play.
She has nothing here. Just me, and the only way to make it out of this is with my help.
“The number was disconnected,” I say nonchalantly.
Fallon looks up from the vegetables she’s cutting. “What? That’s the number they gave me. How will I get in contact with them?” She tries her best to act shocked, and even a bit sad, but I see through her like an open window.
Her eyes skirt away from mine when I attempt to make eye contact.
She’s just digging herself a deeper hole.
I move into her space and grab onto the counter. I’ve scared her enough today, pushed her to the edge already, but I want her to know I’m onto her. I want her to know that she’s not safe playing this game. I won’t protect her, knowing she is working with the person who is after me, even with her sister’s life hanging in the balance.
“I know you think I’m stupid, but believe me, I’m not. You gave me the wrong number on purpose. You’re afraid of what’s going to happen, but if I were you, I wouldn’t be worried about your sister. I’d be worrying about yourself because lying to me…” I lean down and pause. I can see the fear rising in her eyes. “If you are lying to me again, I can’t be held accountable for what I’m going to do to you.”
She’s afraid of me. Afraid of what I might do, and now she’ll be anxious and waiting.
“Please, Markus.” Her lip wobbles, and I want to bite it.
I want to tell her she shouldn’t have lied to me, but I don’t. I press my lips into a thin line and shake my head, driving the urge to kiss her down.
“Don’t worry, Fallon, by the time we’re finished, you’ll tell me everything I want to know without me even having to ask.”
Her blue eyes grow impossibly round, and I run my thumb across her bottom lip, all while wondering if I could kiss the truth right out of her?
“Get on your knees,” I say in a brisk order.
She blinks, the fear still in her eyes, though it’s diminished a bit. “What?”
My teeth grind together. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The little lump in her throat bobs, and she drops the knife onto the cutting board. Like the obedient little lamb she is, she drops to her knees. She peers up at me, her eyes shining with an unknown emotion. She is still afraid, yes, but there is something more.
“Undo my pants and free my cock.”
“Markus.” She tries to reason, but for every lie, every wrong move on a chessboard, there is a consequence, and this is hers. When she doesn’t make an attempt to do anything, I attack.
Like a predator, I sink my hand into her soft golden locks and tug her head back. Soft, delicate features. Full plump lips. Everything about her makes me hungry. Makes me want to be better, do better. Maybe I could, but then again, maybe I couldn’t. I’m not the man she makes up in her mind, whoever he is. I’m a beast, a monster, the villain.