Page 50

He has fucking knives. A tray full of knives, and he is securing me tightly.

I try to thrash around in the chair and I scream as loud as I fucking can. He’s going to fucking kill me.

I feel a warm breath against the back of my neck, followed by a sinister whisper.

“Remember, if you are good. I will let you go.”

I swallow the bile that threatens to rise as the warmth leaves my neck.

“W-what are you doing?” My voice is shrill… and he likes it. His smile grows wide as he reaches for a small knife. He holds it up under the fluorescent lighting.

“I’m going to remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

He grabs the front of my sweatshirt and cuts the material off of me. I freeze in place, not wanting the knife to cut me.

Tears flow down my cheeks, like a broken dam.

He cuts through my sports bra, leaving my chest exposed to him. I turn my head and press my eyes shut.You like it. You like the danger. You crave destruction.

“Look at me!”

I open my eyes and look at him. His veins are prominent as he grips the knife. His eyes are lost. I don’t see the Dante I remember. I stare into the same eyes I saw murdering those men.

He sets the knife down and trails his finger down the center of my chest. My chest rises and falls quickly. I can’t fucking stop him.

His fingers continue to move, teasing the waistband of my leggings.

“Fucking perfect.” His voice is barely audible. He sounds like he is possessed.

Hereaches for a knife and glides the dull end down my center again. My skin feels like it is on fire. The cool metal feels foreign. My legs clench together.You shouldn’t like this. You should be afraid of him.

He placed the knife back down on the tray and removes a cloth from his pocket. He walks behind me in calculated steps as if he is running on autopilot.

“Open your mouth.”

I shake my head no quickly. Clamping my mouth shut.

“I SAID OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.”

No.Don’t do it. He wants to silence you. If you don’t, he will kill you. Just do it. Be good. Remember?

I slowly open my mouth, and the rough material is shoved between my teeth. I gag at the fabric pressing against my tongue.

“Bite down.”

I bite down.You have to be good. That’s the only way out.

He secures the material behind my head and slides a stool in front of me. He sits on the stool, his eyes raking up and down my body. Snot covers my chin, and I try to calm down, but I can’t. I am terrified of him.

He picks up the knife and holds out his palm.

My eyes widen in fear. He looks at me with a blank expression. I shake my head no quickly, and he slices open his palm. Letting the blood drip onto the concrete. I press my eyes shut and sob into the gag.

“Open your fucking eyes. I won’t ask you again,” he says through barred teeth.

I open them.Don’t look away. He doesn’t make empty threats.

He clenches his bloodied hand together in a ball, coating his fingertips in his blood. He takes the tip of his finger and trails it down the center of my body. He stops just under my breasts.