Jaden (Jaded #3)

“You . . .” The betrayal appeared first in Mena’s eyes. They darkened, her eyebrows burrowing together. The sides of her mouth pinched downward, and she turned toward the door. As she was turning for the door, hurt replaced the betrayal, and right before she was completely facing to the door, I saw the anger. She sucked in a breath. Her shoulders lifted, becoming rigid, and her hands formed into tiny little fists.

“Mena, don’t.” I hurried to block her.

She stopped and clipped her head from side to side in a savage movement. “Get out of the way.”

“Carolina hasn’t done anything.”

“You did. You lied to me.”

“Mena—” I stopped. I had no idea what to say.

She continued to shake her head and her hand lifted, pinching the skin on her forehead. “Why? Why? WHY?”

I backed up against the door. My throat was dry and I held up my hands. “Mena . . .” I had nothing, though. I had lied to her. She was crazy. What the hell had I done?

Carolina knocked on the door again. Her voice sounded so close now, right behind me. “Sheldon? What’s going on in there?” She paused, then asked, “Are you o—oh.”

I heard the alarm starting in her voice, and I closed my eyes. That wasn’t good. It was the final nail in the coffin. And as I looked again, Mena was gone from in front of me. What? I stepped forward. “Mena?”

I moved four more steps when she reemerged from the hallway. A butcher knife was in her hands. I groaned. “I didn’t know they had those in hotel rooms.”

She lifted the knife and examined it. “Only in penthouses, I’m sure.” Her hands tightened around the handle bar. “Move aside, Sheldon. You know what I have to do.”

I backed all the way to the door. “Carolina hasn’t betrayed me.”

“BUT YOU BETRAYED ME!” she bellowed out, holding the knife with both hands now. She was gripping onto it like it was a lifesaver. “Move,” she hissed through closed lips. “You hurt me. I have to hurt you back.”

Done. I shot forward and held my arms out, turned upward for her. “Go for it. Hurt me.”

She jerked backward, her hand trembling. “No. Never you. Never.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with you? I would never hurt you.”

I pressed my lips together. She was already looking toward the door again. I was running out of time so I dropped my arms and straightened to my fullest height. My chin lifted. My eyes narrowed. And my shoulders rolled back. Then I cocked my head to the side. “You’re not getting through me.”

There was no reaction from her.

“I mean it. It’s you and me. There’s no way I’m letting you hurt any more of my friends.”

“Move, Sheldon.”

“No.”

Her eyes snapped back to mine, and her top lip curved into a snarl. “I said move.”

I stood my ground.

We were at an impasse.

Then she murmured, a cruel grin alighting her face, “I could slice you. You would be weakened from the blood flow, and then I would step over your body, open that door, and plunge this into your friend. That’s how easy killing can be.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“If you are standing in my way, I will do what I have to do. Harming you is not the same as killing you. One slice won’t kill you, and don’t think I won’t do it. I’ve hurt myself at moments when I had to.”

A shiver crawled down my spine. I didn’t even want to know about those moments. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

A keen look entered her eyes and she drew closer. I grew wary. Right here, this was the killer in front of me. I could believe everything she had spouted by the pool. She was tiny, but there was an unnatural aura coming from her. She was cold, yet happy. She was calculating and eager at the same time. I had never viewed this Mena before. Crazy, yes. Hurt, yes. A lost little girl not long ago. But this woman? Another shiver wracked through my body, tightening every nerve in my body, making my stomach churn. This woman was a serial killer.

“Move, Sheldon. I’ll only say it this last time.”

“One slice won’t take me down, bitch—”

Her hand darted, and I felt a little nip across my throat. “What?” I frowned in confusion. Her knife had blood, and she stepped back. I saw there was a lot of blood. Then I felt a cold trickle moving over my skin, and I glanced down. Blood, dark red, almost black, had already covered my chest. I touched my neck, then pulled it away. As I saw the blood on my hand, the pain hit me, and everything sagged out of me.

A metallic taste filled my mouth. “Wha—”

Mena stepped closer to me. Her hand went to my arm, and she began to move me aside. It was a gentle touch, but firm and guiding at the same moment.

Then the cold started in. “Mena, what did you do?”

“I told you. One slice to move you out of the way.”