Honestly I'm iffy about this scene, which is why I'm not posting the actual beginning and am posting the middle.
Genre: Paranormal/Romance
Rated for language and the MC.
-START-
“I’m a liar, a bitch and nobody all at once. Now you know. So go away. Leave me alone. Shoo.” My voice is muffled but I’m sure he understands what I just said.
“You’re not a nobody yet. You can fix it,” he says. There’s a smile playing on his lips.
“Pfft. Yeah, by building a fucking airship and staying in the sky for the rest of my life amen.”
“How much are you willing to give up to get your life back?”
The moon is huge tonight, mocking me, laughing at my misery. What’s the price of happiness? “Everything. You don’t know how much I had to go through to get to where I was.”
“Are you sure? Everything is an awful lot to give up, Emmanuelle.”
How does he know my name? It doesn’t matter. “Don’t try me.” I can hear him breathing near me and it sends an electric chill down my spine. The silence is becoming painful. “You can’t help me. No one can. Not this far into the game.”
“Watch me.”
I snort and give him my most vicious glare. “Quit playing around. I’m not a moron, you know that. You’re a perv, we both know that one.” God, then why am I still here? “So leave me alone before I decide to scream rape while running away from you.”
His lips quirk into a smile. “I want your soul.”
What? That has to be the stupidest, cheesiest, most godawful pickup line I’ve ever –
“Literally.”
Oh. Okay. That’s…new. Creepy, in fact. I raise an eyebrow. “You high or something?”
He laughs and I swear the breeze disappears and the crickets quiet down. But I can’t help it – I laugh along with him. Great, just great. Now the creep will think I’m in the mood for some flirting.
“Okay, I admit. That didn’t come out too well. Let me rephrase myself. I’m willing to help you if you’re willing to enter a bet.”
And he actually looks serious. As if he means it. “What kind of bet? And remember, I can still scream my lungs out if you start fucking around.”
“Noted. But do you sincerely think everyone in the world wants to bed you?” He raises an eyebrow.
I wave the question away. “Five seconds before I start screaming, creep. Five, four –“
“I’ll give you all the money you want.” He pauses and my eyes narrow. “But you have to prove it buys happiness. If you can’t, then I win your soul.”
“You’re joking. I don’t believe you.’ And I inhale, getting ready for one of the biggest lies of my life. I mean, I’m screwed anyway. Getting caught screaming rape won’t do any harm to what little reputation I have left.
“Allow me to prove it then.” He reaches for my face and I shrink away, but he still manages to pull something from near my ear. A credit card. What kind of sick joke is this? Am I being humiliated on national television or something?
My hand lashes out and the slap lands squarely on his cheek. His cheek reddens almost immediately and I can’t help but feel sorry but I’ll be damned if I let him know I feel sorry.
Be still, my heart. You’re too loud and you’re drowning out everything.
There, on his cheek, is a handprint, clear as day and red as blood. My handprint.
“My offer still stands, Emmanuelle.”
