Chapter 80

Chapter 80


\[AVA\]

I might have lost consciousness because the next time I open my eyes, the bright lights make me wince and squeeze them shut again.

“Ah…” I whimper, only then realizing my ankle is badly bruised.

“You’re awake.”

A deep male voice rings in my ears, and I look up—only to find the same staff guy who brought the food order, the one neither Brian nor I had ordered.

A terrible fear clutches my heart, my body shifting into high alert.

“What the hell do you want?” I spit out, unable to keep my frustration in. If he’s the reason I’ve been attacked, threatened, and badly beaten, then I want to know why.

Why would he want to hurt me and my mom?

Who is he?

Do I know him?

Did I offend him somehow without even realizing it?

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he grabs a chair and drags it in front of me.

I’m sitting on the floor, my back pressed against a wooden cabinet.

He lowers himself onto the chair, facing me, a sharp knife resting casually in one hand.

“Me?” He arches a thick brow. “From you? I suppose… nothing.”

I frown. What the hell is that even supposed to mean?

My glare sharpens, laced with disbelief—maybe even the kind of look that suggests he’s one crazy asshole. “Then why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing.”

Nothing?

I swallow hard, my throat dry as sandpaper. “Then what the hell do you want from me?”

He tilts his head slightly, studying me like I’m some kind of puzzle he’s trying to piece together. The knife twirls lazily between his fingers.

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Does there have to be a reason?”

My pulse pounds. My fingers curl into the fabric of my jeans.

“Yes,” I snap. “Normal people don’t just go around attacking and terrorizing strangers for no reason.”

He exhales a quiet chuckle, like I just said something amusing.

“Normal people,” he muses, tapping the flat of the blade against his knee. “What an interesting concept.”

I stiffen, my skin crawling. There’s something wrong with him. Not just dangerous—wrong.

His gaze flickers to my ankle. “That looks painful.”

No shit.

I have so much to say to him—so many colorful words meant to hurt him.

But I can’t. I love my life. I want to live. And if that means enduring his torture until I find a way to get the hell out of here, then so be it.

“So, I’m just a random target?” I try to keep him talking—perhaps that’s the best course of action for now. Brian might come back and save me from this monster. I just hope he doesn’t take too long.

“Nah. Not random. I don’t do randoms. Not my style.”

“Then what the hell is your style? Because I sure as hell don’t remember giving your parents any advice on good parenting.”

He laughs, as if I made the biggest joke of the century.

“Cute,” he muses, tapping the tip of the knife against his thigh. “Got a little bite to you, huh?”

“Why? Surprised?”

He chuckles again. “Not really. Let’s just say I got the pre-warning.”

Warning?

Does that mean he’s working for someone else?

“So, you’re just hired help,” I prod, hoping to get under his skin—maybe make him slip and spill something useful. “Should’ve figured.”

“Hired help?” He repeats the words slowly, rolling them around like he’s tasting them. He shakes his head. “You make it sound so… ordinary.”

I don’t blink. Don’t breathe too hard. If I let him see my fear, I’ve already lost.

“Isn’t that what you are?” I push. “Some errand boy doing someone else’s dirty work?”

His grip on the knife tightens—just for a second.

Then, just as quickly, he relaxes again, dragging the blade lightly across his fingers, almost absentmindedly. “Funny thing about assumptions,” he says. “They tend to get people killed.”

My heart pounds a little harder at his words, but I can’t give in. I’m close. I know I am.

“But I don’t think I’m making wild assumptions. In fact, it all makes sense now.”

“It does?” He lifts a brow. “How so?”

“Because you don’t look crazy enough to kill people for fun.”

He laughs. “You know nothing about me.”

“Or maybe I know enough.”

“Enough!” His anger flares suddenly as he whips himself up from the chair, kicking it back with a sharp thud. “Enough talk.”