Page 57 of King of Hollywood
“Yes, that too.” His expression pinched and he curled into himself, before glancing at me through his lashes. “I never expected to have you here,” he admitted, voice low and sweet. The candles flickered, and my pulse skittered. “At my table. In my home.”
“I never expected this either,” I replied, just as honest. “But I like it.”
“You do?” Felix perked up. If he’d had a tail, it would be wagging. I wanted to reach across the table and touch him—but he was too far away, and I was too much of a coward to leave my seat, surprised once again by the compulsion to comfort him when I’d never felt that way about anyone before.
How he could be so powerful one moment and so vulnerable the next, I couldn’t understand.
“I do,” my voice was rough, my pulse racing. His gaze snapped to my throat, almost like he could hear the way my heart galloped, attracted to it like a siren song.
“Do you ever get lonely, Marshall?” Felix asked. He looked so small all of a sudden, sitting at his end of the table with his dinner untouched in front of him. There was such raw vulnerability on his face, I couldn’t bear to look away.
It was beautiful.
Devastating.
As lovely as an avalanche destroying everything in its path. That’s how he made me feel. Like he’d come into my life, rolled through everything I’d known, and pulled it into him. Remade it into something bigger, and better—and twice as terrifying.
His question was an interesting one.
Loneliness wasn’t something I often contemplated. I was too busy with my rituals. Too busy planning my next kill. Too busy helping Harold with his messes. Too busy warding off Winnie’s nosiness, and trying to figure out what to get my sisters for Christmas. There wasn’t time to be lonely.
At least…I hadn’t thought so.
But then I thought about all the nights I sat at my dining room table, eating the same meal, listening to the same songs on the playlist I’d created specifically to cultivate peace. The lulling twists and trills of the same symphony I’d attended all those years ago. Chasing a feeling I hadn’t thought I’d ever feel again.
Until now.
I thought about the emptiness in my home the moment Winnie left after visiting.
The silence I’d always loved, but now felt…hollow knowing Felix was across the street, sitting silent on his own.
It hadn’t occurred to me before that I might be lonely.
But…perhaps I was.
“Yes,” I admitted just as softly, answering his question after what was probably an awkward pause. Felix didn’t say a word about my awkwardness though. Instead, he just nodded, that same faraway look in his eyes. “Do you get lonely, Finley?” I countered, gripping my fork tight.
“I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t,” Felix admitted, voice tight. He swallowed, and I watched his throat bob with fascination.
I was a bad person.
I knew that.
Because the idea that I could fill that gap in Felix’s life made me fizzy with elation. I should’ve felt sad for him, probably. Pity. A normal person would’ve. Instead, I was excited for the opportunity this offered.
An opportunity to be everything for him.
To make him need me even more than he already did.
“Why?” I asked, curious. “You’re often having guests over.”
“They mean nothing to me. Friends at best.”
The beast inside me reached toward his. Hungry.
“Nothing?”
Felix nodded his head in agreement. “Sometimes…when they’re here they make me feel even lonelier than I did before,” he admitted, a sad twist to his lips. “They remind me of what I’ve lost—of who I used to be.”