Page 25 of Jump or Fall

Her captor emerged in only a towel and casually strolled over to the closet. She shifted under the blankets to conceal herself, but he came out smirking while buttoning his shirt.

“Why bother covering what I’ve already seen and thoroughly enjoyed?”

He pulled back the covers, sending a wave of cool air over her skin.

“Up.”

Reluctantly, she got out of the bed and stood before him. Every small movement painfully bringing back the previous night. Struggling had been useless. No one would have come to help, even if they could hear.

“It won't always be like that, doll.” His voice was soft—almost remorseful—as he traced a slow line between her breasts, down to the fresh wounds on her hips still caked in blood. The cuts burned where his claws had raked through her skin and she flinched as he glanced over one. At least Lukas’s blood wasn’t on her.

She’d at least kept him happy enough to avoid that .

“I can be gentle.” His lips pressed against hers, light and deliberate. “If you’re good for me, I’ll even make sure you come sometimes.”

She jerked her head away. Kissing was somehow worse. It felt more intimate. Like he believed she wanted him. The idea of him trying to make her finish, as if it were a reward, sent a wave of nausea through her.

He tsked, pinching her chin and making her meet his eyes. “Everything I do has a purpose.” His grip was firm. “Last night, I had to show you the worst, so you’d understand how important it is to behave.”

His other hand trailed lower, stroking the cuts on her side. A sharp, satisfied breath escaped him. “And these? They tell everyone you’re mine.”

With that, he released her and continued dressing.

“You’ll live here until I can trust you. Max will escort you to and from work.” Giving her a pointed look, he continued, “Stupid choices will result in stripes.” He ran a claw across her face. “Exceptionally stupid choices will land you in the Outskirts.”

How could she face her coworkers? Would they know about this?

“Why did you pick me?” she choked out.

He shrugged, as if the answer hardly mattered. “I thought about only keeping you for a night. But I like dangerous things. A lovely young armorer with tiger eyes—how could I let anyone else have you?”

He tilted her chin up again and studied her face. “Don’t look so sad. Plenty of girls would kill to be in your place. I’m a wealthy man.”

“Why not keep one of them?”

A dry laugh escaped him before his hand closed around her throat. “Apparently, you like dangerous things as well.” His grip tightened. “Don’t try to provoke me, sweetheart. It won’t end how you want.”

He released her and watched as she staggered back, gasping for breath.

The rush of blood in her ears nearly drowned out his next words.

“Clothes are in the closet, Rapiderm in the bathroom. Clean up and come downstairs. Then you can meet Karena.” He gave her a final appraising look before leaving the room .

Her gaze drifted to the closet. How could there possibly be clothes in her size?

Stepping inside, she took in the large walk-in space—shelves lined with neatly folded garments, racks filled with hanging outfits.

Every piece looked like it would fit her.

How long had he been planning this? How had he known her measurements?

The thought made her stomach churn, but she shoved it aside.

After a quick glance at her arms, she reached for a simple long-sleeve blouse with a high neckline, a bra, dark blue pants, and underwear. It felt strange to wear things that weren’t hers.

She turned the shower as hot as she could stand and stepped beneath the pounding spray. The scalding water cascaded over her, scouring away the grime, the sweat—his touch. She reached for the soap. Its floral scent was overpowering, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she still felt tainted.

Under the harsh bathroom lights, her bruises deepened in color, and the cuts burned as she washed away the dried blood. It was as if he’d branded her.

Lukas’s ruined face flashed through her mind—congealed blood clinging to what was left of him. Her chest clenched, and she swallowed down a sob. How was she supposed to live like this?

By the time she finally stepped out, steam swirled through the air, clinging to the mirror. She swiped a hand across the glass, revealing red, swollen eyes. The amber of her irises, once vibrant, now looked dull and lifeless.

An array of new makeup sat neatly on the counter.

She reached for the concealer, dabbing it beneath her eyes to mask the redness.

That was all she had the energy for. The mirror display cycled through a number of recommendations, but she swiped them all away and buried the urge to smash it to pieces.

Then, her gaze dropped to the cuts, his words repeating in her head. They weren’t the result of getting carried away, they were a message .

Jaw clenched, she healed them with the Rapiderm. The wounds quickly closed and turned into dark scars.

Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to kill Lukas? She would have agreed to never see him again if it meant he’d be safe.

She left the bathroom and crossed the room to a large window, but there was no way to open it. She’d eyed it the entire time he held her in his arms.

Below, a steep drop led to the ground. The property stretched along the city wall, flanked by towering trees where she’d probably find more fencing.

Defeated, she left the bedroom and made her way downstairs. Maybe if she threw herself down the steps, she could break her neck.

As she stared down, trying to talk herself into falling, a woman’s voice rang out from somewhere below.

More commotion followed before the woman stormed into the room, every step laced with fury.

She was beautiful but very thin, with large, murky blue eyes and long, wavy brown hair that bounced with every movement.

She marched straight for Mara, hatred etched into her face. Stopping a few feet away, she pointed accusingly. “She isn’t even pretty! She’s just some Kaplan whore! Why do you need her? Just fuck her and be done!”

The insult made Mara wince.

Secretary Knight appeared, his face calm, but his posture seething with barely restrained rage.

He grabbed the woman by the back of the neck and swiped a vase off a console table before slamming her face onto it.

The vase shattered, spilling water and flowers across the tile.

He yanked up the back of her shirt, revealing a vast collection of stripes and long scars along her hips, like the marks he’d left on Mara.

She squirmed under his grip. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please!”

He elongated a claw and dug it into her skin. Mara turned away, eyes shut, as her shrieks filled the room .

The screams faded into muffled sobs when he finally released her. Blood spread across her shirt as she remained slumped over the table, shaking.

The Secretary turned to Mara and beckoned with blood-stained fingers. She moved quickly to follow him, but her legs felt unsteady.

He led her into the kitchen and washed his hands in the sink. “My love is becoming a disappointment to me,” he mused. “I have a good feeling about you, however.”

He gestured toward a table with a plate of food. He pulled out a chair for her and waited as she tentatively sat down. The plate held an assortment of bread, cheese, olives, and fruit.

She met his eyes, and he nodded.

“You’re no use to me if you starve to death,” he said, chuckling. “Plus, you’ll need your strength to deal with Karena. As you can see, she isn’t keen on sharing—a trait we share.”

Despite the violence he had just inflicted upon her, a cocky pride shone beneath it. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth hinted that he enjoyed Karena’s jealousy.

Mara nibbled on an orange slice and tore a small piece of bread. Her stomach felt like lead, but the dizziness from the hot shower forced her to eat.

He retrieved a tablet from the counter and sat across from her, tapping the screen with the knuckle of his index finger. She hadn’t considered how the metal fingertips might get in the way before.

He caught her watching and grinned.

“Max will be waiting at the stairs to take you to Hyperion. You are not to go anywhere without him until I say so. Everything in that bedroom is yours.” He stood and slid the tablet into his pocket.

“I was going to give you a break tonight, but I think Karena’s lesson needs to sink in a little more. ” He winked. “Wear something nice.”

The thought of feeling him again made her skin crawl with dread. As his footsteps faded away, she quietly rose to search the kitchen for a knife .

How long would it take to die from cutting her wrist? She didn’t think she could find the courage to stab herself in the neck or chest.

The only cooking utensils she could find in the pristine kitchen were spatulas and spoons.

She tried a drawer, but it only pulled out a couple of inches before catching on a lock.

She shoved her fingers into the gap and brushed against the handle of something.

Desperately, she tried maneuvering it, but couldn’t get a grip through the small space.

“Close the drawer.”

She jumped back and the drawer slammed shut. The driver stood in the entryway to the kitchen with his arms crossed. His small eyes pinning her with contempt.

He checked his watch and sighed. “Let’s go.”

She glared at him.

The memory of Karena’s screams clawed at her mind. Mara didn’t want to end up like her, so she dug her nails into her palms and followed him to the car.