Page 77 of Redemption
I’m not.
“I could use some of that too,” he suddenly says.
“There’s a diner down in Middlebro,”
“Tried it, it sucks.”
“So stay hungry,” I snarl.
“I need to eat, Ker, and I’m going to whether you like it or not. Here.” His voice is calm.
My cheeks burn as I turn toward him. “I’m not letting you eatmyfood! If you’re hungry, you know your way outta here and back down to town.”
“I’m not gonna fight over this—”
“That’d be a first.”
“As it is, I’m here now and you’re gonna give me something to eat.”
“Fuck you,” I mouth and turn away from him.
“What was that?” He takes a step closer.
I stiffen, stirring the boiling water intensely with a fork, unable to remember if I put salt in it or not. “You’re just going to take whatever you want anyway, aren’t you? That’s what you always do.”
“What I always do, huh?” He comes even closer.
My whole spine tingles almost painfully from his presence, it’s as if my skin shrinks. My hand around the pot handle clenches harder and harder until my knuckles whiten. I look down at the hot steam and the bubbles underneath.I could—I don’t even get to think the thought to its end when I feel something at my side. I make a move to look, but freeze when I hear his low voice in my ear.
“Let go of that handle. I know what you’re thinking, but think again. I’m both faster and stronger than you.” His breath is heated against my cheek. “And I’ve got a lot less to lose, Ker.”
My joints crack when I release the could-be weapon. Then I glance down at my side, realizing he’s holding a knife. My gaze darts to Cecilia, but she hasn’t seen anything and seems blissfully unaware of the tense atmosphere.
“Please, put that away,” I whisper.
The egg timer beeps, making us both jump. He takes a step back and I prepare the little meal for my daughter with violently trembling hands as I keep glancing at him. His white shirt is blackish red and glistening all over his left sleeve.
“You’re bleeding.”
He turns his head and looks at the mess. “You stabbed me.”
When he still doesn’t make any attempt to stop it, I can’t help myself. “ForGod’ssake, clean it up!”
He smirks. “Does it bother you?”
“You’re soiling my floor, and that bothers me,” I snarl. And he is. His mere presence has soiled my house, but his left hand is drenched in fresh blood and it does drip, splattering dark red on the wooden floor below him. I already know I won’t bother to clean it. I know I’ll leave the house as soon as I get the chance and never return. Ever.IfI get the chance.
Christian looks at his side and his face twists. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt with his right hand and I look away, my mouth suddenly dry. That never-forgotten, deep-rooted longing for him suddenly flares up as I see a glimpse of his broad chest, making my stomach clench. How,howcan that be? Even now?
Cecilia comes and pulls my hand in the midst of the turmoil and startles me. My mind wasn’t even in Canada, but she drags me right back in an instant.
“Go feed her,” he mutters as he pulls off his shirt. He grabs a towel from the counter and presses it against the wound. “I’ll make something on my own.”
I refuse to meet his gaze and scoop her up on one hip, her plate in my other hand, leaving the little room with a sigh of relief, my heart nearly pounding its way out of my ribcage.
When I set down the plates, my gaze falls on the phone in the corner of the room, mounted to the wall. Cells don’t work out here, so I have a landline. I only need a few seconds when he isn’t watching me.
My heart drops when Christian’s head snaps in the direction I’m looking.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.