Shatter Me - Tahereh Mafi Page 0,25
not sure, but I think you fainted. And I think you should probably eat something, though I’m not entirely sure about that, either.” He pauses. “You’ve probably had too much exertion your first day here. My mistake.”
“Why are you being nice to me?”
The surprise on his face surprises me even more. “Because I care about you,” he says simply.
“You care about me?” The numbness in my body is beginning to dissipate. My blood pressure is rising and anger is making its way to the forefront of my consciousness. “I almost killed Jenkins because of you!”
“You didn’t kill—”
“Your soldiers beat me! You keep me here like a prisoner! You threaten me! You threaten to kill me! You give me no freedom and you say you care about me?” I nearly throw the glass of water at his face. “You are a monster!”
Warner turns away so I’m staring at his profile. He clasps his hands. Changes his mind. Touches his lips. “I am only trying to help you.”
“Liar.”
He seems to consider that. Nods, just once. “Yes. Most of the time, yes.”
“I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be your experiment. Let me go.”
“No.” He stands up. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t. I just—” He tugs at his fingers. Clears his throat. His eyes touch the ceiling for a brief moment. “Because I need you.”
“You need me to kill people!”
He doesn’t answer right away. He walks to the candle. Pulls off a glove. Tickles the flame with his bare fingers. “You know, I am very capable of killing people on my own, Juliette. I’m actually very good at it.”
“That’s disgusting.”
He shrugs. “How else do you think someone my age is able to control so many soldiers? Why else would my father allow me to take charge of an entire sector?”
“Your father?” I sit up, suddenly curious in spite of myself.
He ignores my question. “The mechanics of fear are simple enough. People are intimidated by me, so they listen when I speak.” He waves a hand. “Empty threats are worth very little these days.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “So you kill people for power.”
“As do you.”
“How dare you—”
He laughs, loud. “You’re free to lie to yourself, if it makes you feel better.”
“I am not lying—”
“Why did it take you so long to break your connection with Jenkins?”
My mouth freezes in place.
“Why didn’t you fight back right away? Why did you allow him to touch you for as long as he did?”
My hands have begun to shake and I grip them, hard.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“And yet you claim to know me so well.”
I clench my jaw, not trusting myself to speak.
“At least I’m honest,” he adds.
“You just agreed you’re a liar!”
He raises his eyebrows. “At least I’m honest about being a liar.”
I slam the glass of water on the side table. Drop my head in my hands. Try to stay calm. Take a steadying breath.
“Well,” I rasp, “why do you need me, then? If you’re such an excellent murderer?”
A smile flickers and fades across his face. “One day I’ll introduce you to the answer to that question.”
I try to protest but he stops me with one hand. Picks up a piece of bread from the plate. Holds it under my nose. “You hardly ate anything at dinner. That can’t possibly be healthy.”
I don’t move.
He drops the bread on the plate and drops the plate beside the water. Turns to me. Studies my eyes with such intensity I’m momentarily disarmed. There are so many things I want to say and scream but somehow I’ve forgotten all about the words waiting patiently in my mouth. I can’t make myself look away.
“Eat something.” His eyes abandon me. “Then go to sleep. I’ll be back for you in the morning.”
“Why can’t I sleep in my own room?”
He gets to his feet. Dusts off his pants for no real reason. “Because I want you to stay here.”
“But why?”
He barks out a laugh. “So many questions.”
“Well if you’d give me a straight answer—”
“Good night, Juliette.”
“Are you going to let me go?” I ask, this time quietly, this time timidly.
“No.” He takes 6 steps into the corner with the candle. “And I won’t promise to make things easier for you, either.” There is no regret, no remorse, no sympathy in his voice. He could be talking about the weather.
“You could be lying.”
“Yes, I could be.” He nods, as if to himself. Blows out the candle.
And disappears.
I try to fight it
I try to stay