Dark Souls

6.monster

Something hard and cold is pressed against the back of my head. It's a gun. My gun. My spine turns into steel, "Katarina." How the fuck did she wake up and get the gun without me noticing?

"It's Kat," she croaks, "Where am I? What did you do to me?"

I cautiously turn around to face her and unavoidably smirk down at her, "I didn't do anything to you." My tone is impassive, but my hardness isn't. "At least not something you wouldn't have enjoyed, love."

She cocks her head to the side, her dark brown eyes dull and cold like the angry skies outside, "Really? Than why isn't there a grain of sand in my fucking body and I'm only wearing this shirt?" She asks through gritted teeth.

I shrug, "Because I showered you."

"You showered me while I was unconscious, you creep?" She fires at me, the gun a couple of inches away from my mouth, firm and steady. "Where's. My. Underwear?"

"Olga, my housekeeper, is getting everything washed and dry cleaned," I explain, creasing my eyebrows in exaggerated offense, "What are you implying? I told you that I wouldn't hurt you."

She scowls, "Suppongo di crederti?" Am I suppose to believe you, she asks in Italian. "You fucking threatened me with a gun to my forehead and kidnapped me."

I chuckle humorlessly, "You threatened me with a knife to my neck, we're even." My eyes rake her flawless body from head to toes, "And to be honest, you're not really my type." Of course she is. She's everyone's type, but I can't forget who she is. A DeLuca. And I'd love to get under her skin for a bit of fun, "I prefer redheads."

She rolls her eyes, her full lips in a hard line as she shifts uncomfortably from one bare foot to the other. She's on fight-or-flight, but I can't blame her, she has no idea of who I am or where the hell she is. The only thing she's certain of is that my hand didn't shake when I killed that man in Cefalu and "kidnapped" her.

"Look, Katarina, the man I killed..." I grunt annoyed, fucking hating to explain myself, but surprisingly feeling the need to, "He—"

"Had a family," she barks at me, her eyes filled with rage, "I heard him beg for his life. He told you he had two kids at home and a wife! You didn't care—"

"Two kids whom he sexually abused and a wife he beat up every fucking chance he got," I explain with fury, "You don't know anything!"

She unlocks her eyes from mine, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, but quickly glaring back up at me, never lowering the gun,"That's not true, you're a liar, a mons—"

"I'm a monster?!" I snap in a low tone at her, "What about you? 4 years ago you got high as fuck, drove into a lake with your daughter and a family friend, a fucking 15 year old, killing them both."

Her face scrunches up in anger, "I was drugged by someone! And don't ever mention them again or I swear to God I'll kill you," she threatens through a trembling voice.

"Are you? You're going to shoot me like you did to Christian Matthews and Xandra Ellison?" I ask in a taunting tone, "Your ex-fiancé and his lover, if I'm not mistaken," I let out another humorless chuckle, "Hmm, I guess we're not that different, love."

Her eyes turn glossy and her chin quivers, but she doesn't back down. "I didn't do it," she snaps at me, biting her lower lip hard to stop it from shaking. "I didn't—"

My body and face immediately soften at her painful reaction. Almost feeling the pain of her memories myself.

Don't go fucking soft, Wolf.

I straighten my face, "I also learned that you were a drug addict and overdosed minutes after you sliced your wrists open. After that your mother admitted you into a mental hospital for 6 months. How did that go for you?"