Page 130 of Pink Ink

“Nod once if you understand.”

A tremor goes down my spine from the way the low cadence of his voice caresses the side of my face. I want to turn around to look at him, but I’m scared of meeting his eyes. It’ll remind me of everything he said.

I nod, my knuckles bleaching around the taser, letting its solid shape ground me.

Maddox slowly lifts his hand from my mouth, keeping his other firmly wrapped around me. I hate how nice his arms feel, and how I want to close my eyes and bury my face into his chest to breathe him in.

“You need to leave. It isn’t safe.”

My anger spikes. I whirl on him so we’re chest to chest. He grips my chin to stop me from saying anything, and I slap his hand away, ignoring how his eyes harden.

“If you think I’m dangerous, then there’s a whole room of people who will kill you without being asked twice.”

My heart sinks. People—organizations—don’t keep thousands of human bones in a catacomb if they’re innocent.

Maddox tilts his head. “Who do you trust? The devil you know or the devil you don’t?”

I have two options: run or double down. After how far I’ve come, there’s only one right answer.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” I curl my fists so he doesn’t see them tremble. “You have information about someone I care about, and you’re going to tell me.”

He falters at my confession. This isn’t the right place or the right time, but if I let Maddox go, who’s to say he’s ever going to tell me anything.

Shaking his head, he says adamantly, “No. You need to leave.”

“Tell me first,” I repeat.

His lips curl. “This isn’t a game, Reyna. These people are dangerous. They’re who I kill for. Leave.Now.”

For one horrific second, I wonder if Maddox might have something to do with Dad’s death.

“Tell. Me.” I demand.

He edges away. “I’ll go out first so no one sees you.”

I grab a fistful of his cloak so he knows that I’m serious, but I almost lose my train of thought when my hand brushes his chest. “Start talking, or I start screaming.” I’m lying through my teeth. If he doesn’t want me dead, then he needs to give me what I want.

Our eyes narrow simultaneously, and we stare at each other, neither of us willing to back down. He has answers I want. I’m not owed them, nor do I deserve them, but they’re mine to learn, one way or another.

Maddox must see the determination written over my face, because he breaks the silence first, just as another round of applause sounds from the other room.

“We’ll get you out of here. Then I’ll answersomeof your questions.”

That’s not good enough. “We go together, and you tell me everything I want to know, or I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not happening,” he says with an arrogance that no longer surprises me.

“If I try hard enough, I’m sure I can sneak back in here.” That’s the only thing that’s going to happen if I can’t find out what I want to know through him.

We still when the door opens. Someone stumbles out, sputtering a cough. Maddox wraps his arm around me, tucks me against him, and pivots to shield me from the person walking by. I grip the thick fabric of his robe with clammy hands as he rubs circles over my back that bring me very little assurance that we won’t get found out.

But if I really think about it, that’s not the reason I’m grasping on to him. I’m just not sure if the tears beading along my lash line are from fear, exhaustion, or the grief of losing him too.

Maddox curves his finger beneath my chin to tip my head up to face him. His heavy breaths mix with mine as I stare up at him, draped inshadows. Darkness dips beneath his jaw and curves around his mouth, highlighting his soft lips. This close, there’s no mistaking the hollows around his eyes that tell a story of weeks of sleepless nights.

The pesky little butterflies in my stomach are under a misguided belief that he’s tortured because he misses me, and that only makes me sadder.

We’re in this limbo where he tells me he doesn’t want me, yet looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters to him. I’ll never mend my broken heart if he keeps coming back to break it, and looking up at him, I’m reminded of the fantasy I fooled myself into believing could be a reality.