Page 13 of Shattered King

This whole thing was bizarre. I mean, the setting for my interrogation was cute, almost idyllic. The furniture was worn in that rustic, cottagey way. Floral fabric covered couches, recycled timber table, and chairs. Trees rustled in the breeze outside, birds singing happy little bird songs. I shook my head.

Disgust curled his lips—lips that a few years ago, I’d had the right to kiss whenever the mood struck. And the mood had struck a lot. All I’d had to do was put a hand to his chest and look up at him. He’d instantly lean down, giving me his mouth. I could’ve kissed him all day.

For the rest of my life.

“You really are an exceptional liar, aren’t you?” he said.

“I’m not lying.”

He stood straighter, crossing his arms over his wide chest, expression hard and unyielding. “You need to start talking or things get a fuck of a lot more unpleasant for you.”

I tested the cuffs at my back. They were tight, no way was I getting out of this, not when he thought I knew where Pierce was.

“I don’t know where he is.”

A dark sound rumbled from his chest. “Is that where you were going after visiting your mom? Did I get in the way of a happy reunion last night?”

Anger flared, and I was glad of it. “No.”

He moved fast, came in close. His hands gripped the back of the chair on either side of my waist, caging me in. “I don’t believe you.”

I turned away, refusing to look at him. It hurt too damn much. He trailed a finger down the side of my face, his skin warm, rough.

His lips brushed my ear. “I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you,” he whispered. “Not even my old man, not even your stepfather. I fucking despise you. At least they were honest about what they were. They didn’t play nice while they planned to fuck me over. All I’ve thought about for three long years, locked in that fucking shit-hole, was getting you alone like this. Making you pay.”

My breathing started coming in fast, uneven pants. His words cut me to the quick. Knowing how much I’d hurt him, it hurt me, and I was so damn sick of living in pain. I knew that he hated me. Of course I did. But hearing it . . . God, it killed me. The fact that I was still breathing was irrelevant. “So what happens next? Beating? Torture?”

He stilled, motionless for several seconds. “I may want to make you pay, but you know damn well I’d never lay a fucking finger on you, on any woman.”

I spun to face him. “You kidnapped me, cuffed me to your car, and locked me in a bathroom all night. What am I supposed to think?”

“Sweetheart, you can think whatever you want. I couldn’t give a fuck. You answer my questions, I cut you loose. Simple.”

Another stab of pain. I cut you loose. Then he’d leave, put me firmly in his past, and make a new life for himself, with someone else. Look at someone else the way he used to look at me.

“I don’t have the answers you want.”

He gripped my chin again roughly, forced me to look into his eyes. “You’re back in town, and you expect me to believe you’re not going to pay Pierce a visit? His precious little protégée?”

Oh God.

“Jesus, look at you.” He looked at me in disgust. “You’re still that cold, twisted little monster he created, aren’t you? Did you and Pierce laughed when they locked me away?” He shook his head. “Don’t even try and sit there and tell me you don’t know where that fucker is. I know you do.”

I froze, a violent shudder moving though me. “I don’t know!”

He kept that hard stare aimed on me. Waiting.

I shook my head. I didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t believe me, anyway. I swallowed hard, close to hurling at his feet. The reality of the way he saw me, knowing that he thought it was all a lie, all of it, the love we’d had for each other . . . I couldn’t bear it. Josh’s precious face filled my mind and I turned away, staring out the window, at the morning sunlight shining in.

My mother would be awake now . . .

I jolted.

Oh God.

Had she called Pierce? Had she told him I was home?

Hunter’s eyes moved over my face. “What is it?”