Page 60 of King of Hollywood
“What, did you think you were special?” I scoffed, pulse racing, as we both pretended I hadn’t offered him everything I had.
Felix’s face pinched playfully as he hemmed and hawed, before shaking his head. “That would be presumptuous of me.” He nodded, faux seriously. “It’s not like you mow my lawn for me every Saturday—or are quite doggedly trying to go steady with me or anything.”
“Exactly.” I shrugged. “I do this for all my neighbors.”
“Even Barry.”
Gagging, I was tempted to throw my napkin at him. “Never say that to me again, you little floppy-hatted bitch.”
Felix cackled. “If I’m a floppy-hatted bitch, I wonder what you call Barry in your head. It’ll be colorful, I’m sure. Creative.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Fluffy-haired ass kisser?” Felix blinked innocently. I snorted out a laugh. “Nosy, inconsiderate floral-pattern-wearing-asshole?”
“What is it with you and asses?” I leaned my chin on my hand, staring at him, my heart thumping unsteadily.
“Pink-cheeked—”
“Oh god.”
“Hawaiian-shirted gremlin man?”
“No, that would be you.” I grinned, and Felix grinned back.
My heart was full.
I didn’t think it’d ever been full before.
For five minutes, Felix came up with more and more Barry-themed insults. We traded barbs back and forth. I never stopped staring, reluctant to even blink for fear of missing even a second of his smile. Every time he cackled, I logged the memories away for the future. Drops of sunshine saved for rainy days. It seemed my head would be full of his laughter, his smiles, and his jokes. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad about it.
Not at all.
Not even a little.
Not one bit.
Chapter twelve
At the beginning of this—after the first body I helped Felix dispose of, I’d thought that Felix was too daft to be an evil mastermind. I wasn’t so sure of that now. He certainly had me wrapped tightly around his finger.
Felix often reminded me of a politician. He knew exactly what to say to dodge questions. Exactly how to give enough, without sharing too much. Like he’d been trained to unite masses of people—but didn’t know what it was like to be genuine when he was alone.
Despite this, lying did not come easily to him like it did to me.
He was an enigma.
People who were natural saviors didn’t tend to be brutal murderers on the side. At least…I didn’t think they did? I’d consulted The Club, and all I’d gotten were odd looks. Allen had slapped me on the back and told me not to be so closed-minded. That things weren’t always as they appeared.
Whatever that meant.
There were pieces I was still missing in this story, and I couldn’t wait to fill in the gaps.
I’d promised him I’d find out his secrets, and I meant that.
But I was content to wait till he told me himself.
Right now, I wanted to pay attention to Felix. He looked quite lovely in his spiffy white button-up. It hugged the contours of his chest, and clung almost obscenely to his biceps. There was a light in his eyes that flickered ever-changing, as unsteady as the flames that dwindled on the table.