You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 104

RALI

"If the goal was to starve me here, you shouldn't have forced me to move in with you," I groaned, plonking myself on the edge of the bed.

Void didn't look up. Leaning against the edge of his desk, thumbs dancing over his phone screen, he scoffed, "Did you say force? I gave you options, Green. You're here because you chose to be."

"Please," I rolled my eyes so hard I must've strained something. "Stop acting like you wouldn't have found another way to just drag me here."

He finally looked up, flashing an arrogant smirk. "Glad you learning."

My stomach gave a pitiful growl that sounded like a dying animal. Meanwhile, Void was too engrossed in his screen. What had him so invested while there was a world war taking place in my belly?

"Look, I'm really really hungry. Since morning, I've had nothing but two miserable crackers and half a banana I found sulking in the fridge. You won't even let me order anything!"

I honestly didn't know what his problem was. We were out of frozen food. The cleaner came earlier today, and I'd almost begged her to make something, but this tyrant wouldn't have it.

Was I supposed to just starve here?

A sigh escaped him as he looked up from his phone, pinching his brows together as if annoyed by a child's constant prodding.

"Rali, I've got enough food in the pantry to feed an entire family for a year. If you're hungry, move your limbs and get busy. Or do I need to draw you a map to the kitchen?"

Geez. I saw that coming. "You know I can't cook."

"Don't think that should be such a proud thing for you to say."

"Come on, Void!"

"Rali Hayes." He didn't raise his voice. But my name in that tone?

I blinked.

"You do realize we'll be spending the rest of our lives together, don't you? You can't expect me to survive off another woman's cooking forever."

I nearly gagged. Him and his lame delusions. I was tempted to tell him that was a sick joke. Except I wasn't sure I was ready to see that side of Void for now.

"People have chefs for a reason," I countered. "Besides, how have you been surviving before you forced me into your life?"

"I'm not hiring a chef when I've got you. Take it as a compliment or a warning." He turned toward the door, then tossed a look over his shoulder. "Tasmin could cook. Maybe if you weren't glued to your tablet, you'd have learned a thing or two from her."

I crossed my arms, lips tightening as I stared holes into his back. Why the hell was this man suddenly obsessed with domesticating me? What was next, baking cookies in lingerie?

......

I kept flipping between the recipe video on my phone and the bubbling mess in the pot that was supposed to be Jambalaya.

At least, that's what the lady in the video called it. But whatever I had going on looked more like regret soup.

I squinted into the pot with frustration. Why the hell does it look like barf in a bowl?

I poked at it again, hoping maybe that one final stir would magically transform it into something edible.

It didn't.

"This is why women snapped and invented takeout," I muttered, slamming the wooden spoon onto the counter with more force than needed.

Void's voice echoed in my head: “If you're hungry, get your fingers busy.”

Yeah, well my fingers just ruined dinner, Void. Are you happy now?

With a growl, I grabbed the pot and dumped the entire thing in the sink.

Okay. Plan B. Something simple. Something no one in history has messed up.

Chicken noodle soup.

Even inmates can make that. Surely I'm not more hopeless than a guy who built a shiv out of a toothbrush.

Honestly, I didn't know how I ended up so hopeless in the kitchen. I guess I was born with a non-stick pan where my cooking gene should've been.

Tasmin tried teaching me when I was younger, bless her patient soul. But when I kept grumbling and stressing her the hell out, she threw in the spatula and prayed age would fix me.

News flash: it didn't.

Maybe it also had to do with me becoming relaxed when Veronica turned out to be a kitchen lover. We were roommates even in college, so I didn't feel the need to worry about cooking at any point.

Bad choice, yes. Because now, this monster was hell-bent on starving me to death.

He should wait until our deal is over and I'm free from him.

Speaking of which...

There was progress. I asked him yesterday and he told me they finally got something from Creighton, though he was annoyingly tight-lipped about the name.

Typical. I'd begged and bargained, but the bastard was adamant and insisted he'd only tell me when he was done "digging."

Please. He was just dragging it out so I wouldn't leave yet. I knew his games.

Still, he did promise he'd tell me once he was done. And if there's one thing Void doesn't do, it's break his word.

The devil himself leaned against the sideboard, ankles crossed. He had a plate in his hand. A small round one.

I blinked, disoriented. Was that pride in his eyes? Was he enjoying it?!?

Katya sat on the couch, not eating but watching, living for the chaos.

Eric's eyes tried and failed to beam when they spotted me.

"Ms. Beauty!" he wheezed, just before swallowing the spoonful of horror still in his mouth.

I held my keys like a lifeline as I inched toward them. "You, uh... you weren't supposed to eat that. It was… part of an experiment. Definitely not meant for human consumption.". God, I sounded pathetic.

"Oh." Eric glanced down at his plate. "Thought as much. Something in my guts did tell me it was just you experimenting something playful." He added a dry laugh.

"Well, you tried." Miles nodded, but that was immediately countered by a scoff from Void.

The asshole. Why did I feel in my bones this whole tasting party had been his bright idea?

Miles made a beeline for the kitchen with his plate.

Eric rose more slowly, as though moving too fast would trigger a flavor flashback. "As much as I'd love to finish this," he was already edging toward the exit, "I just remembered I've got… really important things to do. Like right now. So, I'm just going to escort this back to the kitchen where it belongs."

And then he was gone.

God, if the floor had any decency, it'd swallow me whole.

Void finally pushed off the sideboard. "I've had better meals in my nightmares," he announced dryly, walking past me. "Next time, Green, try not to murder the chicken twice."

I wanted to fling my keyring at the back of his smug head, but something gripped my attention.

His plate. It was empty.

Not half-eaten. Not poked-at-then-abandoned. No food left sulking at the corners.

It was Spotless.

I blinked. No way.

The food was horrible. Even a tongueless man would be able to tell. Miles and Eric had only been able to take a spoon. But Void...

My brows tugged together as I stared at his retreating figure. It was either he had no taste buds or the man was hungry enough to eat a disaster.

But as I stepped out the door, a quieter thought slipped through the cracks of my pride: "Or maybe he only ate the disaster because it was mine."