13. Her

13

HER

DAY 3

" W hy apples?" It was a waste of a question. But one that honestly piqued my interest.

Was it a weird obsession? Some kind of dietary need? Was I kidnap by Johnny Appleseed's creepy older brother?

I still couldn't remember how I got here. There was just a bunch of blank spaces in time that my brain was trying desperately and unsuccessfully to fill. So I decided to focus on what was right in front of me instead. Him and his obnoxious chewing.

He lowered the fruit from his mouth for a moment, flicking his gaze down before lifting his eyes back to me again. "Because they're a lot like people. We choose ?em based on what we see on the outside, but it's not until we peel back the skin that we're forced to bear witness to how truly rotten they are. Take you, for example."

His lips twisted into a grin that would be charming if it weren't so sadistic at the same time. Then he canted his head to the side as if examining me. My arms shot up and crossed over my chest without me realizing it. His scrutiny left me feeling far more vulnerable than the flimsy nightgown.

"You're pretty enough. Decent packaging. Fuckable, of course." His brow twitched as if he found himself amusing. "But slap that ass on an aluminum table and hand me a scalpel? Oh, the stories that body would tell. Every bruise, every tiny pin prick and failing organ—everything you try so desperately to hide under the business casual pantsuit and sensible shoes—would be mine for the viewing. I mean, really, Em, pantsuits? When did you become so basic?" He bit into the apple again, making a show of spraying the juices down his chin and licking it off. He was trying to goad me. He was also trying to distract me from what he was really telling me.

"You're a doctor," I gasped at the realization.

"No, I'm not." His tone was dry, too dry, and it lacked the usual humor and cockiness he wore like a coat of armor.

"But you were , weren't you." I didn't need his verbal confirmation. I could feel it in my gut. I was right.