I continued to eat, my eyes down most of the time, though I couldn’t help but to sneak a glance at him from time to time.
He was still, as if he were encumbered by his thoughts. He didn’t say anything to me, but he lingered like he might.
I liked having him there. After being terrorized by that asshole for two weeks, I didn’t want Magnus to leave my cabin. He was the only power that I had, the only weapon in my arsenal. “Did you just get here…?”
He nodded.
If he’d arrived just thirty seconds later, he would have seen my dead body hanging from that noose, my guts spilled into the snow.
“Where were you?”
“Paris.”
I steadied my fork and looked at him. “That’s where I live. Well, where I lived…”
He kept his gaze on the wall. Despite his visual indifference, he remained.
“What were you doing there?”
“Work.”
“You have two jobs?” I asked in surprise.
“It’s the same job, just in a different place.”
There was no way there was a labor camp in Paris, so he must do other things there. “Do you distribute the coke?”
He shifted his gaze to me, eyes cold. “Do you really care?”
I stilled at the look then turned back to my food. “I just… I guess I don’t. I just haven’t really talked to anyone for the last few weeks. It’s been really hard…with you gone.”
“And of course, the second I leave, you get yourself in the noose.”
My head snapped in his direction. “I did nothing. Your…” I couldn’t find the right word to describe that asshole. “Colleague decided to torture me the second you were gone. He treated me like a dog, made me beg for my food, told me I had to suck his dick or I would starve. I did nothing. I carry no blame.”
He shifted his gaze away.
“He targeted me, for whatever reason.”
“Because you’re difficult to break.” He shifted back to me. “So, it’s fun to try.”
That explanation disgusted me.
He removed the gloves from his hands and stuffed them into his pocket. Then his chin tilted down slightly, his eyes on the floor.
“Magnus?”
He wouldn’t meet my look.
“Don’t leave me again…”
He inhaled a breath before he lifted his chin and looked at me. The expression in his eyes was different this time, absorbent, as if he took time to digest the request.
“Don’t leave me with anyone else but you.” I didn’t realize how much better my life was with Magnus. And just how I took things for granted back in Paris, I did the same with him. This man wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t force me. He even protected me…
“I’m not a saint—trust me on that.”
“But you’re not evil either—trust me on that.” I’d seen evil with that guard. I’d seen evil with the executioner. I’d seen evil all over this place. But with Magnus…not really. He was guilty due to the fact that he worked here, but he didn’t get off on torture.
He stared at me again, his brown eyes warm like coffee that I hadn’t had in weeks. There were tendrils of vapor in his eyes, like the steam that rose from the surface of a freshly brewed cup of coffee on a cold morning.
I finished the mound of food on my plate, the most I’d eaten in any sitting, and set it to the side for him to take away when he left. I grabbed the mug of cocoa instead and brought it to my lips, feeling the warmth return to all my veins. “Help me.”
He stared me down without blinking. “I already did.”
“I know, and I’m grateful, but…please.”
He knew exactly what I was asking for. He regarded me stoically, like my request had no effect on his heart. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can—”
“I said, I can’t.” His voice turned sterner, hard like steel.
My lungs sucked in more air on their own, the devastation painful as if that knife really had pierced my belly. “I deserve more, and you know it.”
“Doesn’t matter what you deserve. A lot of people deserve a lot of things. It doesn’t mean they’re entitled to have them.”
He wasn’t a white knight in shining armor. He wasn’t a hero. He just wasn’t a villain. I didn’t understand his motivation for things, why he helped me in so many ways, but he wouldn’t help me in the way I needed most. “Please.”
“I’ve done a lot for you. The only thing I should be hearing is your gratitude.”
“And I am grateful—”
He abruptly got to his feet and headed to the door.
“Wait. Please.”
He sighed loudly, like he hated himself for turning back to me. “I’ve got to deal with the aftermath of all this, while you sit here and sleep soundly tonight. I’ve got to justify my actions and somehow make it convincing, because a lot of women have been hung before you, women I’ve guarded, and I didn’t do a damn thing.” His brown eyes burned into mine, like the brown trees of a forest on fire.
My palms squeezed the mug between my hands, the cocoa still warm but the marshmallows dissolved. “Why? Why did you help me?”
He stared me down, and it was obvious I wouldn’t get an answer.
“I’m going to get out of here whether you help me or not. But if you help me, I’m far more likely—”
“You won’t make it.” He dropped his hand from the knob and faced me. “The trip by wagon to get here is seven hours—and that’s if you know the way. You need to get it through your fucking head that there is no escape from this place—”
“I heard a bell.” I got to my feet and faced him, the mug still in my hands. “A church bell. I heard it on the wind… I know I did.”
He was still, his look cold.
“Tell me where it came from—”
“The wind likes to play tricks, especially in a
