YA Indie Carnival…Interview with a Villain
Today, I sat opposite John Bell from Callum & Harper and barely escaped with my life. This is him, here. Don't let appearances fool you. His angelic features aren't exactly what they seem…they're truly of the fallen variety.
This is our first and last conversation…ever. I was a fool to do it even once.
"Hello, Miss Amelie," John tells me, a slight grin gracing his lips. "Nice gun."
"What did you expect, John?" I asked him.
"You think that would stop me?" He said, laughing. "The only reason I don't own you right now is because I choose to play this game."
"In any case, Mister Bell, this stays here," I tell him, patting the shiny black pistol in my lap.
John eyed me wearily. "Hmm…"
"What?" I ask, fingering the trigger of the gun in my lap.
"I just never noticed it before but you're built a little like Harper."
I fought to keep my hands from shivering. "I'm not. I'm taller," I said, taking up a fool's argument.
"That may be but the shape of your figure, Fisher," he said, lids hooded, "just.like.Harper."
The use of my name made my jaw tremble and I eyed the distance to the door, gauging how quickly I could get away without incident. I was interrupted by maniacal laughing.
"You wouldn't get away," he told me, reading my thoughts. He leaned into me, forcing me to shrink into the back of my chair.
I took a deep breath. "Why not, John?" I whispered.
"Because I'm not done with you yet."
"You're done when I say you're done," I told him more confident than I really was, polishing the handle of my weapon, desperately trying to keep myself in check.
"Right. You're in charge here. Tell me, Fisher, are we done here?"
I gulped audibly. "No, I, uh, I wanted to ask you a few questions."
"Ask away," he said in a deceptively friendly manner, letting his body fall slack against the back of his chair. His hand lifted, making me start. He laughed as he scratched his shoulder.
"Uh-Um….," I fumbled with my words. "Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why this obsession with Harper?"
At the mention of her name, a breath whooshed from his lungs, a lazy smile plastered against his mouth, his eyes closed completely. He opened them abruptly and stared coldly into my eyes, evidence of his once satisfied expression gone.
"Harper is most extraordinary," he offered, as if that explained everything.
"She is but she isn't yours, John," I told him, playing with the ultimate fire.
"She is!" He bellowed, smacking his hands down hard on the table between us. I jumped, my chair sliding back slightly at his exclamation.
"She isn't," I goaded him.
"She.Is." He gritted between his teeth. He stood, looming over me and placing his palms flat on the table. "She is mine and I'll kill whoever stands in my way. Do you understand that, Fisher? Do you know how far I'm willing to go to own her?"
"Y-yes," I stuttered. "I'm acutely aware, John, but she isn't property to own."
His big body fell back into his chair, all his earlier ire vanished in an instant, the smile returning to his deceiving face. "Agree to disagree."
"Where are the other girls, John?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, his blossoming smile saying otherwise.
I changed direction. "Harper asked me about you the other day."
My eyes were trained on my lap but when I lifted them, he was staring daggers.
His body shot up in his chair, his hands trembling on the table top. "She did?" He swiped his hands down his face in anticipation. "What did she want to know?"
"She asked me where I thought you put those girls. She wanted to know 'why them'?"
"She asked that? What did you tell her?" He asked, more vulnerable than I ever anticipated he could appear.
John was a dichotomous monster. One moment, he was cool, calm, collected and calculated. The next, a fumbling fool with all the appearance that he was in love…but an obsessed love, a dangerously obsessed love.
"I told her I didn't know where but I was sure why. That devastated her. She hated knowing that she indirectly caused those women harm."
"Did you tell her she made me do it?!" He roared, shoving his chair behind him. I gripped the pistol in my lap. "She made me!" He huffed, his neck and face growing a deep red. He was ready to blow. "She made me! All I ever wanted was Harper warm in my bed. That's all I ever wanted." He took deep, unsteady breaths. "She was supposed to be mine," he said out loud to no one. His eyes lifted and focused on nothing, obviously unaware I was still in the room. "She was mine. Supposed to be mine…"
I quietly picked myself up from my chair, and walked tall to the front door, all the while listening to a psychotically repeated 'Mine'.
Come see what's new at the Carnival this week!
The rest of my Indie cast are all awaiting your beautiful eyes. So go…
The Amazing Dani Snell
The Incredible Patti Larsen
The Talented Courtney Cole
The Witty Wren Emerson
The Accomplished Nicole Williams
The Clever Laura Elliott
The Skillful Amy Jones
The Staggering P.J. Hoover
The Brilliant Alicia McCalla
The Resplendent Heather Cashman
The Lustrous Abbi Glines
The Polished Cheri Schmidt
The Inventive Cidney Swanson
The Radiant Rachel Coles
The Gifted T.R. Graves
The Phenomenal Cyndi Tefft
The Lovely Lexus Luke
The Sassy Suzy Turner
The Exceptional Gwenn Wright
The Stupendous Kimberly Kinrade
The Quick J.L. Bryan
The Saucy Darby Karchut
The Magnificent M. Leighton
The Impressive Madeline Smoot
