But I have to get around this asshole. He says he’s my father; perhaps he really believes it, or as much as the idea makes my skin crawl, perhaps he really is. I’d be stupid to ignore this when he’s obviously trying to make an emotional connection. That might be the only way to get out of this alive.
The more my body thrums awake with adrenaline, the more questions pile up against my temples; where’s my Leo? Where’s Ash and Ethan, were they taken like me? And wasn’t Leo on to something about Gwen…?
“So.” Blood Honey turns to me, proffering the dish. “Shall we get started?”
“I’ve been there since the start.” Harvey shoves his words out, one almost running into the other. “I sacrificed almost everything. I did my job, I—”
“Harvey!” Blood Honey shouts. His voice cuts through the room like a stone lobbed through the window. “Enough! Did we ask your opinion? No. We did not.”
“Fuck you,” he spits back.
“Oh dear, dear. Somebody has an attitude problem.” He gives me a shrug. “You just can’t get the staff these days.”
“People keep killing my staff,” I say flatly.
“How annoying.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Aeron. Don’t try to buy time. It’s not going to help you.” He says this with real sympathy now, a small smile playing at his lips. You can see him walking up to a woman with this face, offering to help her with grocery bags or eliciting a blush as he holds open a door. “Nobody’s coming. Haven’t you worked that out yet? It’s just you, me and Chuckles here.” He pauses. “He never chuckles. But it would suit him. Lighten up, Harvey, may as well.” He swirls a gloved finger around the dish, sending razors clinking, and selects a sliver of metal. “Mmm. This one, I think.” Then he gets to his feet.
“I’m not swallowing that thing,” Harvey insists.
“Aeron, is he going to swallow it?”
A beat. The ocean below us waits with baited breath for my answer. When I exhale, it rushes in bubbling static, waves rising up to nudge at the floorboards before plummeting down into themselves for inevitable implosion.
I cough.
Blood Honey gazes back at me as he stands over Harvey, gloved hands held up. “Well?”
The words come too easily, slipping from my mouth as if greased. “Swallow it.”
Harvey crows, a low sound that reminds me of the black birds on the island. Leo had a funny term for them. I can’t remember what it was.
“I was looking forward to this. It’s probably obvious, but I like the way it feels to say it out loud.” Bloody Honey positions himself over Harvey’s bulky, restrained frame, and makes a fist with one hand. “Open up.”
Harvey clamps his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut. Wrong move. Oh, boy.
In one sharp move, Blood Honey throws the toe of his boot into Harvey’s shin. The crack splits the air, swiftly followed by Harvey’s groan of shock and pain, and Blood Honey takes the opportunity to wedge his fist between Harvey’s teeth. He’s smooth. Co-ordinated. Reminds me of…me.
“You can chomp down all you want, son, but it’s not going to help you. The gloves, see. I always come prepared.” He holds the blade up on his finger, appraising it. “I’m going to push this straight in, and you’re going to get it down before it does too much damage. It’s easier, I promise you. Don’t struggle—you fall backward and we’ll just do this all over again. Do you understand me?”
Harvey remains silent, spewing breath around Blood Honey’s fist like a rabid dog. There’s a part of me that’s glad we can’t see each other, what with the psychotic sadist in the way. Maybe he deserves this. Maybe he doesn’t. It’s not what matters here, and yet I can’t deny how my stomach twists every time he retches.