He doesn’t say a word.
All he does is smile as he shoves me out and slams the doors shut, locking them from the inside with something metallic and large. Even though I try to force back inside, it’s no use. It’s completely jammed.
“Fuck!” I yell, kicking the door.
Blood still runs down my face as a sharp cut on my ear refuses to stop bleeding. So I quickly turn around and march back to my car. There’s no way I can bust back in now. He’s expecting me to, so it would probably take me ages to get in. I ruined it. Now I’ve got to live with the fact that this monster still lives. And that I was unable to kill him when I had the chance.
“Fuck!” I shout out into the wilderness, opening my car door and jumping inside.
I throw the bat and my mask in the back and quickly start the car. The engine roars as I make a U-turn and back away as fast as I can.
Fuck this place and the devil who lives here.
He’ll pay for what he’s done. That fucker doesn’t deserve to live.
One way or another, he’s going to die. Whether it’s by my hand or someone else’s.
But first … I’ll have to face Syrena.
Chapter Eighteen
Accompanying Song: “She And Him” by Omniflux
Syrena
I’m clinging to the window, listening to the bustling people down below when I hear the sound of his car. The engine is unmistakable. I immediately jump up and go to the hallway, but I stop halfway there. I need to put on some decent clothes, so I quickly make my way back into my room and pull out a dress.
My hair is still messy as fuck after my shower, and I haven’t properly dried it yet. So I hurry into the bathroom and find the blow dryer, trying to make it look okay-ish.
I don’t know how it looks, but I can feel the strands of my hair becoming less frizzy as I brush them down. I pat them down with some gel from his cabinet and spray some of his cologne on my neck. It smells nice.
When someone jiggles the door handle, I go back out to the door again. As the door opens, I put on a big smile and greet him.
“Hi.”
I don’t know why I’m so happy, but I haven’t seen him for a whole day. For all I know, he could’ve left me here alone for weeks, but I’m glad he didn’t.
Too bad there’s no answer, though. He just opens the closet and flops down that some bag, immediately locking the door again.
“Where did you go?” I ask, trying to get him to talk to me. “Do anything interesting?”
He leans in and presses a kiss to my cheeks. “You’re awfully cheerful …” He hovers close to my neck and sniffs. “Are you wearing my cologne?” he whispers into my ear.
I nod with a grin. It’s surprising he noticed so quickly. Then again, I wanted him to notice the effort.
He grabs my shoulder and says, “Don’t try to persuade me with little tricks that you’re now suddenly falling head over heels for me. It won’t work.”
He rises again and walks past me, leaving a cold draft behind.
I turn and follow him into the living room. He sits down on the couch and sighs.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“No, I’m fine.” His voice is stern and dull.
“Doesn’t sound like it.” I sit down beside him and place my hand on his lap, but he immediately swats it away.
“Don’t … please,” he says.
I frown. “What happened?” I lean in closer, hoping he’ll look at me. “Talk to me … please.”
He just groans and grinds his teeth. “How are you?”
“No, I asked you first,” I say.
“Did I hurt you badly on the couch? When I fucked you?” he asks. “Be honest with me.”
What the heck is that question? Why now of all the times he could’ve asked that?
“I don’t understand.”
“Answer me please,” he says sternly.
“No.” It’s the truth even though I don’t want to admit it.
I did enjoy it. Even his harshness when he tugged the chain and used me made me … hot and bothered. I didn’t expect to like it so much going in, and I’m not sure I’d be honest about that if he asked. But hurt me? No.
“Is that why you left so suddenly?” I ask.
He sighs again. “That … no.” He places a hand on my knee and squeezes it before pulling it away again. “I was just … forget about it.”
“No, I want to know,” I say, sliding closer.
“I’d rather not.” He gets up from the couch and starts tapping on something, probably his phone.
I wonder if he’s calling Brandon. Or whoever he met with when he was gone.
It must’ve been quite the conversation if he’s that upset about it. And for a man like him… that means a lot.