Max glanced at her from over his shoulder. "I hope you like your steak rare. Personally, I prefer when the meat is warm, but tender, easy to slice and chew, the blood running hot and thick against the tongue."
The color drained from Alice's face, her gorge rising until she had to fight to not heave onto the floor. Max grinned and returned his back to her as he grabbed a thick slab of beef to slap it down on the cutting board next to the cleaver.
Using the cleaver, Max chopped thick steaks from the slab of beef, the rhythmic sound disturbing Alice more than it should have. In an effort to distract herself, she asked, "Why did you say I'm not that easy?"
He glanced back at her from over his broad shoulder, a glimmer of some unspoken thought sparking in his eye. At first, he didn't respond beyond that momentary stare. His hand moved purposefully as he continued chopping, the veins in his forearm corded beneath his sunkissed skin.
"I knew the moment I saw you," he finally explained, refusing to look at her. Placing the cleaver down, he pulled a knife from a block to his right, vegetables from his left. The blade chopped as he spoke, adding an insidious warning to the tone of his voice.
"You're not a victim. Not entirely. The truth is in your eyes, your body language. One glance at you and I knew you've been fighting your entire life."
Captivated by the rhythmic chop, frozen in place as she watched his arm move with absolute precision, she asked, "How would you even know that?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze pulled from watching him to view the television screen seated in the corner of the room.
Max hadn't lied. Every television in every room was tuned to the cell where her sister was kept.
Delilah sat motionless on the bed where she was chained, her head fallen forward as helplessness weighed on her shoulders. The only consolation Alice had was that Delilah was seemingly safe inside that room. It was more than could be said for Alice. Even though she was left alone and scared, blinded by the hood that covered her head, at least Delilah wasn't forced to entertain their monster.
Not like Alice.
Clearing her throat of the emotion welling inside her, she added, "Besides, you're wrong. I'm not a fighter."
The chopping stopped, his right arm moving to place the knife on the counter to his side. His palms pressed against the black granite, but he didn't turn to look at her. "Am I?"
A long pause occurred between them, only broken when Max spoke again. "There are nightmares in your eyes, Alice, a bleak darkness that is obvious to any person who has experienced it firsthand."
After placing the vegetables in a pot to steam and arranging the steaks on the grill top of the stove, he turned to study her. The sound of sizzling meat filled the space between them, the smell causing Alice's traitorous stomach to churn with rancid hunger.
She wasn't sure when she'd eaten last.
Watching Alice's every expression, mentally tracking each movement and behavior, Max stood silent, his large body propped against the counter at his back.
"I knew a person like you once. He had the same mannerisms, the same characteristics that marked him as something other."
Her attention drawn to his mouth, she studied the way his lips moved when he spoke, the way he kept his head slightly bowed so that he was watching her from beneath thick, inky lashes. His hair was so dark, it manipulated the shadows around him, blending him seamlessly into his environment.
Silence allowed his words to sink into her thoughts, to collide against the nagging whispers that she should be doing something besides listening to his cryptic statements. But just as the first sparks of rage ignited inside her, she forced her eyes from his face, diverting her gaze to the television screen.
"Other? Are you trying to claim we're not human?" It would explain how any man could so easily torture another human being. He had to view that person as an object or an animal.
His eyes followed hers to the television screen, an expression of pity softening his features. She thought he would speak again, but instead he turned to flip the steaks. Black smoke rose up in a thick cloud to mingle with the steam that had accumulated above the boiling pot.
"There is no we, Alice. There is only you."
Her eyes locked to his as he slowly spun back to face her. His head angled in the direction of the screen. "She is not other. Only you."
Confusion saddled her. She'd grown tired of the meaningless statements and words. His explanations revealed nothing. "What do you mean by other?"
"You've seen darkness, experienced Hell...you've battled nightmares all your life. It's shaped you, molded you and set you apart from the majority. You are human, obviously, but your mind is not the same as the worthless sheep who fill our society. You don't care about the inane, you don't waste idle time discussing bullshit. You, of all people, understand what it is to be haunted by evil."
Her brows furrowed, her eyes narrowing on him in disbelief. "There's no way you can know that about me. I've told you nothing."