Page 13 of Scarlet Mark

I swallowed. “You’ll see soon enough.” It wouldn’t kill him. Just give him a nice little nap.

He advanced on me so fast I couldn’t get out of his way in time. But it wasn’t his blade he put at my throat, just his hand. “That was a bad move, little girl.” He slid his hand into his pocket, then blinked and shook his head. “Fuck.”

It’s working. For a moment I thought maybe I’d done it wrong, that maybe—

His hand tightened around me, his knife appearing again.

And I reacted.

I couldn’t help it.

My knee went upward right between his thighs, landing in the sweet spot and eliciting a harsh curse from his lips. His grip loosened just enough for me to twist away from him. He took a dangerous step toward me, shaking his head again, and I danced out of his reach.

“What the fuck ish ith?” he slurred.

“A sedative,” I whispered, jumping backward as he fell to his knees. He’d be fine. This was only temporary.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

He said my name as I put my hand on the doorknob. Nothing else followed.

I risked a glance back at him and found his dark gaze on me, not angry, but devastatingly amused. Helikedthat I’d bested him. I couldn’t help my smile.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” I asked.

His lips twitched and he collapsed, immobilized.

“Bye, Killian.”

Amara

Money.

Bag.

IDs.

I ran through the mental checklist several times while wandering throughAmsterdam Centraal. My train was scheduled to depart just before five o’clock in the morning, straight to Berlin. From there, I’d hop on a flight or another train and keep moving until I figured out what to do and where to go.

Fucking Killian Bedivere. How did he find me? I’d paid an exorbitant sum for Scarlet Rosalind’s identity. It’d been airtight.

Collapsing into my seat on the train, I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers and tossed my bag onto the floor. I’d not brought much, just two outfits, cash, and some identification.

My tank top clung to my skin beneath my brown jacket, my jeans pasted onto my legs. And my boots had seen better days.

But I couldn’t afford to bring anything else with me. This was my existence now.

And fuck, I was exhausted.

Sad.

Relieved.

This life was not what I had intended. But I couldn’t go back to Malcom. I’d rather die first. The things he wanted me to do, the things heforcedme to do, were worse than any death Killian could bestow upon me.

And the things Malcom wanted to do…

I quivered, not wanting to revisit those memories. The famous senator was a vile man behind closed doors. But only a few saw that side of him.