But that’s not possible now, is it?
Not when I’ve become inexplicably addicted to him, to his ethereal face and that delicious accent in his deep voice.
Not when seeing him brings a sense of peace I’ve never experienced before.
He leans back on his hand, the gleam in his eyes so similar to a predator who’s enjoying toying with his prey. “Tell me, what made you prim and proper, Anastasia?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I take a bite of my pizza.
“Let me guess. It has something to do with your real identity, which is why you changed it. Was it suffocating where you came from? Is that why you left?”
My ears heat, but instead of playing into his hands, I strike back. “How about you?”
“What about me?”
“How did you become prim and proper?”
“Again, I’m not prim and proper, but I did have a cool foster father who saved me and my twin sister from the slums. It’s because of him that I changed from an ugly duckling to a beautiful swan.” He winks, but there’s no playfulness behind it. If anything, it seems like a camouflage for something dark and sinister trying to peek through.
“How about your parents?” Usually, I wouldn’t ask. I don’t really get curious about people in general, because I’d rather not get involved, but I am curious about him.
About the reason behind the darkening in his golden eyes.
He takes a bite of the pizza, chews slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. “Never knew my father, and my mother was a whore, who was as clueless as us about the identity of the man who impregnated her. When she got mad at us when we were six, she said we were the product of a gang bang from which she received her stash of drugs for the month, and the only reason she kept us was because many of her clients had pregnancy and lactation kinks.”
I gulp the mouthful of food, but that has less to do with the information and more to do with his tone when he talked about his mother.
In all my life among monsters, I’ve never heard someone speak with so much venom and pure hatred about their parent. It’s as if he wishes she were on the edge of a cliff so that he could push her off and watch as she meets her demise.
Knox leans back on his palm again and tilts his head to the side. “Now that the boring information is out of the way, why don’t you tell me about your parents?”
“What about them?”
“You mentioned your mum was abused and since you spoke about her in the past tense, I assume she’s no longer alive?”
The food gets stuck in my throat and it takes me a few swallows before I can push past the clog that’s built up there. “She’s not.”
“How about your father?”
“He’s around…”
“And?”
“What?”
“Are you close?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Do you not want to be around him?”
“No.”
“And why is that?”
I tighten my hold on the slice of pizza until it’s almost crushed. “Because.”
“I see. Is he the reason behind the identity change?”
My head jerks and I realize my mistake when he smiles in that predatory way.
“So he is.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Then what do you want to talk about? How about how suspicious you are or…” he trails off when the opening of “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica echoes from my phone. “You get a small pass for having good taste in music.”
My eyes bug out. “You like Metallica, too?”
“Like? Their music has been running in my veins since I knew what music is all about. Attending their concerts is always the highlight of my year.”
“Do you by any chance have a collection of their merch?” I always wished to own music-themed merchandise, but that was forbidden in my house.
“I collected a lot of T-shirts, jackets, hoodies, and other Metallica-themed merch in my teenage years. I even had a pair of headphones with the name of the band engraved on it. I kind of dropped endless hints about wanting it so Dad could get it for my birthday. They’re back in England and my sister always threatens to destroy them when I don’t do things her way.”
I can’t help the smile that curves my lips at how carefree he speaks about Metallica and his sister. It’s the first time I’ve witnessed this easygoing part of him.
He’s always been intense in some way or another, but now, it’s dulled down.