I scowled at him. “You sound like Raul now.”
“No, I am nothing like Raul. I only see the truth. I opened you up to the life you were born to live. You came from … you only knew this growing up. It is in your blood just as it is in my blood. We lead the lives we were meant to, lives that are exciting and dangerous and full of power. We are strong. We are so alike, so very alike, that sometimes I wish you had told me back then who you really were.”
“You would have killed me if you found out,” I said. I feared it then but I knew it now. My hand would have been tossed into the sea, like that angel doll.
He seemed to consider that, angling his head. “Maybe I would have. I loved you so much, so much.”
“Loving someone enough to kill them?”
He smiled caustically. “It’s the romantic in me.”
Suddenly he reached forward and put his hand on my knee. I flinched, my heart exploding in my chest, my eyes frozen wide.
“I’m glad you are afraid of me, my dear,” he said, his fingers tightening on my knee ever so slightly. “I’m glad I disgust you. The more you feel these things so strongly, the more you’ll realize how right I am. That you and I are the same. That I can help you get what I have—the power, the pride, the respect. I can make you my queen. And you’ll give up on trying to be good, to be better. You are better now.”
I felt as if something was lodged in my throat. “I sacrificed my life in order to save Camden and his family. I am good.”
He leaned forward, his lips going to my ear. I held absolutely still, watching the dark waves roll past beyond his shoulder.
“You sacrificed nothing and gained everything. You chose to be with me. Now own it.” His breath tickled hot, even when he pulled away.
After placing his drink on the side table, he began to descend the stairs into his quarters, his silhouette stark against the glow of the cabin. His voice called out, “Sleep well, angel,” and was carried away by the night wind on the Gulf. Even then, I still felt his breath on my neck. The lingering heat. Those damaging words that were oh so slowly getting under my skin.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CAMDEN
One moment I was backing away from the guy slowly, hands in the air in a show of peace. In the next a gunshot rang out from somewhere inside the house. I froze in place, forgetting what Gus had told me, which was to run and get the hell out of there. Instead I acted on instinct.
As the man whipped around in surprise to stare back into the house, I grabbed the gun out of my waistband. I was smart to do so because in the next second, before he even turned back around to see me, to see the pistol, he was going for the gun he had on him.
Unfortunately for him, I beat him to it. I held the gun steady in my hand, pointed right at his head and said calmly, “Don’t you fucking move.”
The man raised his hands slowly and a stupid smile was plastered on his face. “Hey man, we don’t want no trouble.”
“Gus!” I yelled at the house, coming closer until I was a foot away, gun still aimed and ready. “Ellie!”
“Oh,” the man said in surprise. “You are here for the bitch.”
Without thinking, I whipped the neck of the gun on his temple, right on his injury.
The man cried out and grabbed his head, dropping to the ground but I grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him back up. I flung him against the door, his head rattling against it and shoved the gun underneath his chin.
“Listen to me you piece of shit,” I said, my voice breaking with rage. “Where is she? You tell me where she is. Tell me!”
The man didn’t look scared at all. The blackness settled in, stoking the fire, and made me drive the end of the gun further into his throat, until I was sure I could feel his pulse riding down the barrel.
“Tell me!” I screamed, not caring if I was attracting attention. If that gunshot was for Ellie … so help me God. I’d burn the entire house down with everyone in it.
He clamped his lips shut, as if daring me to shoot him. I knocked him in the temple again, the blood running harder down his face and then dragged him inside the house. It was dark on the first floor but the upstairs led to rooms bathed in the sunset.
“Gus!” I yelled again.
“Up here,” he said from the second floor. He sounded fine.
“Where is she? I’ve got someone but he won’t talk.”
“Mine won’t either.”
I went up the stairs, dragging the man up until the polo shirt began to rip. I dug one hand into his arm and kept the gun firmly pressed against his ribs. He kept stumbling over the steps thanks to the blood in his eyes but I didn’t care.