Cain chuckled, his eyes looking away, and just like that, I was able to breathe again. If this was what it was like to be paralyzed by a stare, I could now say that I was fully qualified to write a thesis on the subject. He had an aura that filled the room like a hand wrapping around a person’s throat.

“If I drugged you or killed you with poison—which I wouldn’t do—wouldn’t that be a kinder choice than what I normally enjoy doing with my prey?”

He didn’t look over the computer, his fingers tapping away, but I could still feel the weight of the question as if he were inches from my face. I swallowed the grapefruit-sized lump in my throat as my brain ran over the question and what would be best to say so I would not end up under his blade.

“Yeah, I guess it would be.” I picked up the sandwich, and the bread was dry, but it still tasted fantastic because my stomach was so empty.

That wasn’t really the reason I hadn’t eaten it. I was attempting a hunger strike, but food was my weakness, so here I was, caving.

“Good girl, Sunshine.”

Those words had never sounded so sexy. A heat stirred in my gut to join the buzz of activity and finally settled between my legs. I bit into the sandwich harder and forced myself not to be such an idiot.

He’s a serial killer. For fuck’s sake, you shouldn’t be turned on.

“You’re cute when you glower, and I wouldn’t berate yourself too much. I planned on making sure you’re much more flustered before the day ends.”

My voice ceased to work, the rich peanut butter sticking to the roof of my mouth as I stared at the man that seemed to be able to read my mind. It was more than unsettling. There wasn’t a word in the dictionary that could describe the creeped-out sensation crawling along my skin.

I needed to get off this topic.

“What are you doing,” I asked and instantly regretted it as he put his feet down.

I now had an unobstructed view of his face. The face of a murderer shouldn’t be that sexy and alluring. He should look like a hideous beast or have horns as a warning. Instead, he had the most unusual blue eyes I’d ever seen, with a strong jaw and messy sandy-blonde hair that I wanted to run my fingers through. He had tattoos along his fingers and hands that shouldn’t be sexy, but they made me pant, but that damn Joker tattoo looked like it was mocking me.

Stop it.

“What I’m doing, Sunshine is schoolwork,” he said and leaned forward to set the laptop on the large metal table.