Page 103 of Chained

"What if they do deserve it?"

Her question makes me pause. My lips part and close as I try to find an answer that won't scare her to death.

"Then there's no better feeling."

"Hm..." She's thinking. Probably trying to work out why the fuck she chose to sleep with a fucking monster.

"Jax," she speaks again after a beat of silence, each letter of my name from her lips like a song in my ears, sending goosebumps up my arms.

"Amora."

"Have you ever…." Silence. "Have you ever thought about killing Vincent?"

I don't hesitate this time.

"Every day since I collected you from that warehouse."

She leans up, the white sheet following her as her lips gently press against mine. "Thank you, Jax. For tonight, for staying." She moves back down the bed, turning away. My fingers rub against my bottom lip, tracing the feeling that her lips had left behind.

I long to stay here. Because here in this room, there's no Vincent. No Melina. The Order doesn't exist. There's only me and her.

I wait enough time for her to fall asleep before gently lifting myself from the bed and sneaking back out onto the balcony. Making the jump with ease, each one gets easier until I reach my own.

I don't need to turn to know she's here. Her floral perfume floods every inch of my room. I stay motionless at the threshold of my balcony door; her silhouette shadowed against the wall.

"My little lost lamb finally found his way home."

Chapter Thirty-One

Ace

"What are you doing here, Lina?" I try to make my voice sound causal, even though I already know I'm so fucked. There's no explaining my way out of this, no lie I can tell that she'll ever believe.

"I think the better question is what were you doing, Ace?" She finally turns, hand gripped around the handle of a knife. Her body is wrapped in sheer, black fabric, revealing the crimson underwear beneath.

My jaw tightens as I enter the room, chest filling with dread. Her eyes never move from mine, but before, there'd be a smile. An inkling that she was enjoying this. But tonight, there isn't. Her lips stay in a straight line, her face unreadable.

I've learned every version of Melina over the years: the taunting one, the cruel one, the one who cries just enough to make you feel like the monster instead of her. This isn't any of them. This one scares me more than the knife does.

"I needed some air."

"Some air," she scoffs, brows pulled to the centre of her face. "Did Vincent's prized pig provide that...air?" she spits, her voice mocking.

"You should leave." I keep my tone steady, my glance flitting from her to the knife in her hand that I know she won't use.

"You seem eager to see me go, Ace." Her voice is cruel, cold. She holds the tip of the knife against her finger, spinning it in her hand. "What's the rush?"

"I'm tired, Melina. I don't have time for this."

"Make time," she snaps back. "All these years, Ace, I've loved you. I've cared for you. I've been the one to soothe you during the nightmares, who's given everything to keep you safe. And yet, as soon as another woman who'll spread her legs pays the slightest slither of attention to you, you're wanting me to leave." She steps closer, and with every step I move back, trying to maintain the distance, but she doesn't allow it. She points the blade at my chest, eyes blazing into my skin. "I can smell her on you—" She spits on the ground beside me. "It makes me fucking sick."

"You've lost your mind," I whisper as she presses the tip of the blade into my skin, just enough that it pinches against me.

"Get on the bed." She nods over to my bed, and I stare at her, expression blank, causing her to shout louder. "I said get in the fucking bed, now!"

"Lina, stop..."

"Don't Lina me. Don't push me, Ace."