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She glares at me for a second, then lets out a bitter laugh. “What am I thinking? You’re Cole Torian; you wouldn’t give a shit about a homeless person, let alone a newborn. You’ve got no heart.”
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe I don’t.
To me, the thought of the underprivileged valuing drugs above food, shelter, or health is fucking infuriating. They have no control. No sense. It’s pathetic. And the mothers who shoot up while carrying a child should be sterilized.
But their actions have nothing to do with me. Never have.
“I provide a product. I don’t force people to buy it. I can’t be held responsible when a woman decides her next fix is more important than her fetus. And I certainly don’t give a fuck when the homeless choose one more hit over a warm bed and a free meal from a shelter. It’s their choice.”
“There aren’t enough shelters—”
“Don’t fucking argue about things you know nothing about. I fund a local shelter, Ms. Fox. I get their reports and feedback. I know exactly how many people turn up in need of a bed and a warm meal, yet they arrive high as a fucking kite when they know it’s against the rules. Then it’s society’s fault for not looking after them. They blame everyone but themselves. I don’t create these fucking problems, Nissa. The users do.”
“You taunt the weak. If your product wasn’t available, they wouldn’t succumb.”
“You think the problem will disappear if I do?” I ask. Her comment is disappointing. Entirely naive and almost pitiful to hear. “All that will achieve is a war between rivals wanting to claim the position my family has held for generations. That’s when your precious crime rate would skyrocket. Drive-bys would be an hourly occurrence. The streets would be bathed in blood until someone claimed power. But the problem would never disappear. Drugs are a necessary evil, whether you like it or not.”
I let the information sink in.
She may detest the way I do business, but my crimes keep the peace. That’s why I have willing police in my pockets. That’s why the authorities help me, despite my illegal actions.
“I’m a necessary evil, little fox. And if you take the time to think about it, without society’s blinders, you’ll realize I’m right.”
She shakes her head and slumps back against the tree. “Not going to happen.”
“Then you’re not only narrow-minded, you’re a fool.”
“And you’re not only delusional, you’re narcissistic.” She crosses her arms over her chest, plumping her breasts beneath the blouse. “I bet the next thing you’ll do is try to convince me you’ve done nothing wrong by abducting me. You haven’t broken any laws. You haven’t violated my freedom or safety. You’re entirely i
I divert my gaze to the setting sun between the trees, unwilling to let her any further under my skin. We’ll soon be in darkness. Nothing but the black of night and a wealth of hatred. As if our current situation wasn’t already a volatile concoction.
“Again,” I murmur, “it was a necessary evil.”
Silence descends.
She doesn’t reply. There’s no curiosity. No apparent impulse to learn more.
“I understand you’re not willing to give me a chance because you’re clouded by misconceptions and preconceived notions. You’re caught up in the regulations of a naïve society.”
“I’m not willing to give you a chance? Really?” Her words are barely above a whisper. “Do you hear yourself?”
I return my gaze to her face, the shadows of approaching night creeping over her features.
“I agreed to have coffee with you. I boarded a jet even though the dangers were blindingly clear.” She eyes the water bottle at her feet, suspicion and need pulling at her features. “I went with you, despite everything you’d previously done to me. I’ve given you chance after chance—”
“You’re not kidding anyone,” I growl. “You didn’t want to meet with me to give me a chance. You were only hoping for the opportunity to take me down.”
She grins, the curve of her lips sinister. “And now I have it. Because of this, you’re going to be locked up, right alongside your father, for a damn long time.”
This loop of hatred is unending. Tiring. I guess I have a limit when it comes to bitchy bad-assery, and she’s reached it. I’m also growing a
“Just drink the water, for Christ’s sake.” I scrub a hand down my face in an attempt to wipe away the frustration.
“And wake up tomorrow in another foreign country with my arms shredded from rope burns?”
“Shredded?” My attention snaps to the wrists covered by her white blouse. “Show me.”
“Go to hell.” She scowls, disbelieving my concern even though the emotion nips at my heels.
She hadn’t been bound for my pleasure. The binds were necessary. Vital. There hadn’t been a choice.
“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” A nagging pulse starts under my sternum, the throb digging deep.
Physical torture isn’t a part of this. Yes, there’s been mental manipulation and psychological fuckery. But that doesn’t mean hurting her was in the plan.
“Only sedated and abducted,” she drawls.
I ignore the barb, determined to pull this conversation back on track. “If you can’t trust the unbroken seal on the bottle, then we can finish this inside where you have access to ru
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” She reaches for the bottle and cracks the lid. “I guess I don’t have anything left to lose. You’ve already violated me in every way imaginable.”
Hardly.
I could’ve done far worse, especially if I had my father’s proclivities. “In the end, I’m sure you’ll appreciate what I’m trying to achieve, despite the way I had to go about it.”
“No, I won’t.” She drinks, taking large gulps before swiping a hand over her mouth. Then she returns her attention to the fruit, taking small bites of watermelon.
She’s not going to let up with the attitude.
After all the scheming and plotting, I’m begi
I’ve made a mistake. She won’t listen.
“Better?” I ask.
She sighs. “Just say whatever you have to say, Cole. I’m growing tired of this.”
Me, too.
Jesus Christ. Me fucking too.
“There’s no point.” I push to my feet. “You’re not ready to hear me.”
Maybe she never will be. Which puts us both in a difficult position.
“Look, I’m sorry things have turned out this way.” I brush the dirt and leaves from my ass. “But for you to get home safely, we need to be able to work together. You have to forget the circumstances surrounding your arrival and concentrate on why this is necessary.”
I pause, giving her the opportunity to continue the conversation. To reach out for a fucking olive branch. Instead, she remains quiet, glaring into the approaching night.
“Fine. I guess you’ve made your choice.” I start for the edge of the tree canopy, each step a conscious reminder of how flawed my patience has become. “I’m going back to the house where there’s plenty to eat and drink. If I were you, I wouldn’t stay out here long. If the bugs don’t get you, the wildlife will.”