38

My fingers shake and I rub a palm on the side of my shorts. “What did I say about that habit?” My movement comes to a halt and I let my hands fall to my sides. Night has fallen and the dark stakes its claim, casting a nefarious energy over the forest. Under different circumstances, this would be a dreamy date. With Killian, however, it feels like an episode of Hannibal. There’s always a fifty percent chance he’ll jump me and snuff out my life. “Has anyone told you that you’re a tyrant?” “You’re the first.” “Guess they don’t see this side of you, then.” “This side?” “The controlling, oppressive side.” “They do. It’s just more subtle with them. I don’t need to make that effort with you.” “Because I’m easy prey?” “Because you’re already acquainted with my type. It’d be a waste of resources and energy to try and fool you.” The meaning behind his words hits me. He doesn’t have to hide in my presence. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. Being special to a borderline psychopath is about th