Page 11 of Adam & Eve

“You do,” he answered his own question before I could.

I watched as a range of emotions played across his handsome face. Anger, insecurity,

envy. It was almost comical. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so thoroughly horrified at the

possibility that he would admit that he’d actually killed Michael.

“He shouldn’t matter. Not when you have me,” he spat through a snarl.

He looked downright evil, like he was ready to cause me pain. And again, I wished I would

have kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t scared to die, but I didn’t want to be tortured for days before I was

killed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” I began but closed my mouth when he sat on the bed beside me.

His posture was rigidly straight. His khaki pants brushed my leg. The feel of the rough

material against my skin drew my attention from his cold eyes to my leg.

Alarm riddled my senses. Where were my clothes? What had he done to me? I panicked at the

thought of all the things he could have done when I was passed out. He’d obviously drugged me since

I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. Mentally, I focused on the space between my thighs.

Nothing felt different. No soreness. I was relieved but distracted. I didn’t register him leaning in

close, but I did feel the pain that followed when he pinched a large amount of fat on my inner thigh.

I snatched my thigh away. “Don’t touch me,” I yelled at him.

I was seething, so angry the emotion caused my body to quake. How dare he put his hands on

me. I was furious. But I was smart enough to realize I was at a disadvantage and couldn’t attack him

like I wanted. I settled for cursing him out in my head, hoping the words didn’t slip from my lips. Pain

hadn’t ever been a friend of mine, and I didn’t want to give him a reason to inflict anymore.

Several seconds of silence passed between us before he spoke up. He bared his teeth at me

like an animal. “You’re asking about him when you’re lying in my bed. Why would you do that to me,

Eve?” His tone dropped to menacing, barely above a whisper tone. “Why are you being so

disrespectful?”

Was he for real? I found his eyes only to realize he was serious. Not only was he serious, but

he was expecting an answer from me. He had me tied to a bed and he was acting like a jealous

boyfriend?

I wanted to curse him to hell. I wanted to tell his mentally inept self to get out of my face with

his asinine questions. But I knew better than to aggravate the situation any further. I turned away from