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Instead, I went crazy after sprinting like an Olympic long-distance runner for ten minutes and fighting for my life with all the fucked-up traps and guards blocking access to this place.
No wonder why there were so many dead bodies.
Dropouts.
That’s what it meant.
Dead females who didn’t stand a fucking chance coming to an abandoned place like this to perish at the hand of these ‘Ruthless’ Kings.
The crazy part of it all is I don’t think this is as ruthless as they could be. That’s what’s frightening to me.
This is all for show.
Distracting from the higher purpose of their reign.
Knowing my bully is involved makes me feel more confident in my assumptions. The real problem is whether I just screwed my chances before having a shot.
“Burst into our lives like a stack of sizzling dynamite.” His words are spoken at an even pace. The thrill of our knife match is beginning to die from its hypnotic high. “Yet, up close, what a serene, sweet piece of work you are.”
I can’t determine if that’s a compliment or a hidden threat.
“No one’s outmatched my critical thinking skills,” he confesses. “Nor has one barged into our warehouse and attempted murder by throwing the knife I own.”
“A shame to be the first.” I’m being an absolute idiot for saying a single thing, but my mind won’t let me shut the fuck up. “I should have worn my special gloves. Could have got away with murder and pinning it on you.”
With a huff, I force my eyes away so I can’t admire how flawless his skin is up close. Are men even supposed to look prettier than women? My gaze is forced to return to his, the firm grip of my chin and whipping force proving this man could destroy me in a heartbeat.
I hope he would.
“Just like how your tiny little body is pinned beneath me? Surrounded by men double your size, who could easily snap that pretty little neck of yours?” he snarls, yet I can’t figure him out because there’s no real fury backing his words.
His eyes tell another story, but those eyes of red are all but contacts that carry another mask to hide the truth within this man’s being. The real thing that makes me question his motives is whether he hides his real eye color to lead many astray or to protect a layer of vulnerability few have enjoyed witnessing up close.
“What do you possibly have to hide behind a cloak of red?”
The words slip out before I can stop them.An extremely bad habit of mine.Speaking before you think really will be the silver lining to my demise, but I blame my delirium state of mind coming down from this high of survival.
Despite the randomness of my words, he seems to understand them perfectly. It’s a first to witness. Other than a few occasions with Warren, no one has ever been able to grasp my wordy philosophies of curiosity.
“It’s the same reason as anyone who’s lost a few screws, Sweet Dynamite,” he taunts with a gleaming look that’s borderline appreciative?I’m not sure.“Which leaves me wondering what you’ve endured in this short lifetime to think you can waltz in here and almost take us out?”
His question makes me frown.
“Last time I checked, I’m the one pinned to the ground, helpless, about to be raped, stabbed, and tossed to the side.” I dare say it with an eye roll.
The man above me pouts.
I’ve lost my fucking mind to think it looks relatively adorable.
“Now, where’s the fun in rape?” He inquires. “If the girl isn’t screaming for the hills and glaring at you with intentions of plotting your demise, I see very little turn-on with that. Unless it’s a part of the terms and conditions.”
“So you’re saying you’ve never raped a girl,” I huff.
“I don’t rape, Dolcezza,” he repeats firmly. “I, as in Zander Benedict, as the lethal mastermind of my empire, don’t need to force myself on anyone to seek pleasure. Everything is always agreed upon. As the saying goes... it takes two to tango.”
He briefly looks away, and I can tell from the way his eyes move from one side to the other, he’s looking at his comrades.
“I can’t speak for the other two Kings. They’re wired bastards, so you’ll just have to gamble with them.”
