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To confirm that, I punch him again, forcing him to take a step back. I use the brief moment to make a run for it, hoping I’ll find the front door in this stupid mansion.
The man lives in Stoneview. Of course. The billionaire town not far from Silver Falls. He wouldn’t mix with the poor people on the North Shore. Not even with the middle-class families on the South Bank.
Organized crime truly pays well.
I’m sprinting through the entrance hall when he slams into my back, taking us both to the floor.
I grunt as I roll over, making sure I’m facing him as he pins me to the ground.
“I told you to kill me or suck my dick. I don’t remember running away being an option.”
“Okay,” I pant.
“Okay?”
Biting my lower lip, I bat my lashes at him. “Okay.” I link my fingers behind his neck, running them up to the back of his head. “You want to fuck me, Nathan?”
I don’t even let him answer. I bring him toward me as I smash my forehead against his nose.
Then I shove him off me and jump to my feet, running back to the kitchen.
The man wants to die? Who am I to take that away from him?
For a second, I forgot who the fuck I was. I don’t run. I fight.
I hear him coming closer as I yank the drawers open, one after the other, to find where he hides the kitchen knives. When I finally find one, I hold it tightly and run back toward the kitchen door.
As I plaster myself against the wall, I listen to his approaching steps. The second his shadow crosses the doorway, I flip around, aiming for his neck.
“Desperate to die?” I hiss.
I do manage to get him. A shallow cut on his shoulder just before he grips my arm. It turns into a slit of liquid red as he twists my wrist, forcing me to drop the knife.
He catches it before it reaches the floor, and I feel my eyes widen.
Shit.
“I think I’ve given you a pretty good try, wouldn’t you agree?”
My breathing accelerates, and my desperation shows when I attempt to pull my arm back, frantic eyes searching around the room for an escape.
“I asked you a question, Kayla,” he repeats, his tone almost bored.
It’s like he’s disappointed I failed to end his life.
“Did I, or did I not, give you a fair chance to kill me?”
“Fuck,” I push between clenched teeth as I keep trying to free my forearm from his deadly grip. “Fine! You”—I pull some more—“did.”
“I agree. I play fair.”
He wrenches me closer, flips me around so I’m facing away from him, and puts the knife under my throat. “Now it’s your turn.”
I force myself to control my breathing as he walks me farther inside the kitchen. “I know we mentioned my cock in your mouth, but I don’t exactly trust you with your teeth.”
I gasp when he pushes me forward, believing for a second that the knife is going to cut my throat open. But he pulls it away swiftly, and I put my hands on the counter, so my head doesn’t smash onto the marble.
“I hope you didn’t tire yourself out too much, Kayla. Because you’ve got a long night ahead of you. Now spread those pretty legs for me.”
