Page 20 of Under Your Scars

I roll my eyes at the nickname. “Why would I tell you?”

“Because that’s what good girls do.”

My cheeks flush and I kick him again when he shuffles closer and closer to me. He catches my ankle and spreads my legs, getting into my personal space until I’m nearly folded in half between him and the wall.

“How about a deal?”

I quirk up my eyebrow.

“You tell me about your day, and I’ll stop breaking into your apartment. There’s not much to look at anymore, anyways. Not surprised your vibrator is purple.”

I try to shove him away from me, but he doesn’t budge. “God! Get out! I can’t stand you,” I huff, still all scrunched up into a pretzel against the wall. “I have a phone now. I’m calling the police.”

“I dare you,” he challenges, and something low and dangerous can be heard in the back of his voice. “You really think I’m scared of a few pigs?”

“I don’t understand what your deal is with me. Please just leave me alone.”

“Tell me about your day and I’llconsiderit.”

I take my bottom lip in my mouth. At this point, I’d eat rat poison to get him out of my life. “Promise?” He holds out his gloved pinky to me, and I frown, but I take it in mine. I huff. “I don’t even know where to begin.” He waits patiently for me to get my thoughts together. “You know how Christian Reeves was with me at the club the other night?”

“Yeah.”

Nervousness brews in my stomach. If I admit to the Silencer what happened today, is Christian going to be found murdered in the morning? Icannothave that on my conscience.

I sigh. “He asked me to dinner.”

The Silencer stares down at me with an eyebrow raised. “That’sit? That’s what you’ve got your panties in a twist for?”

“Why on earth would someone like him want to be seen in public with me? I’m not his type.”

“How would you know what his type is? Maybe he’s into short brunettes with…” He makes a pinching motion to insinuate that I have small boobs, and well, he’s not wrong, but I scowl and swat at him anyways, still trying to push him off me. He sits back and it gives me the opportunity to sit up a little, though my legs are still spread wide open like an invitation.

“He kissed me,” I blurt out without so much as a second thought. I hold my breath as the Silencer looks down at me, his body tense, and if he didn’t have a mask on, I know he’d look absolutely devilish.

“Did he, now?” He hums in amusement. He grips the flesh of my thighs harshly, tugging me a little closer to him. “He could give you everything, you know. Treat you like a goddess. You deserve nothing less.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your life.” I tap his bicep where his admittedly minor injury is healing. He lost a lot of blood, but he wasn’t close to death by any stretch of the imagination. I was just teasing. I didn’t do anything to help except direct him to the first aid kit, but his body goes rigid, and his green eyes meet mine. Whatever is about to come out of his mouth, I’m equally intrigued and terrified to hear it.

“That’s why I call you angel,” he admits, so quietly it feels like he’s confessing to a horrific crime.

My heart skips a beat, and my body relaxes slightly. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly feel safe with him. I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to make of that. Not even five minutes ago, I feared him. Now, I’m not sure how I feel, and that’s even more terrifying. My mind brings back the hazy memory of him wiping off my face with a warm rag before I passed out. How I woke up tucked in bed like I had fallen asleep on the couch during movie night.

“I thought you’d be mad,” I admit, changing the subject. “About me kissing someone else.”

He chuckles. “You’re nothing but trouble, Elena Young. Want to know why?” He leans over, folding me in half again so he can whisper into my ear. “Because I know there’s a part of you, deep down, that’s upset I don’t have you bent over my lap right now, punishing you for letting another man touch what’s mine.”

I frown, my earlier sympathy gone. “You want to know a secret, asshole?” I mumble, pushing him away from me, and this time, he sits back. “Remember how you said the next time I’d touch myself, I’d think of you?”

He nods enthusiastically, and I sit up completely, pushing him again until he’s flopped onto the bed, his head and shoulders hanging off the edge, and I straddle him. I lean far, far over until my chest is pressed against his, and the vein on his neck is thick and protruding against his throat.

And then I slowly reach to his thigh, pull a knife from the sheath, and press it against his neck with the sharp blade digging right into that vein. I do it slowly because I know if he was truly worried about me slicing open his throat, he would never have let me wrap my fingers around his knife.

He’s giving me an illusion of control, and I can feel a bulge pressing against my center, telling me that he’s just a little too into it.

I lean down to whisper in his ear. “You were wrong. I didn’t think about you. I thought abouthim,” I purr, making my voice as sultry as I can with that knife pressed dangerously against his jugular. “Now leave.”

I don’t know how this man manages to move so damn fast, but in less than a second, we’re on the floor, flipped over, with my cheek against the hardwood, my ass in the air, and that knife now against the side ofmyneck instead of his.I yelp as he pins my arms to the base of my spine with one hand.