Page 70 of Savage Don

And just like that, our call ends. But I’m not given any time to rest. Scrambling to turn my airplane mode back on, I race through a sea of texts and missed calls as I hear heavy footsteps approach from down the hall.

Still, I can’t help but stop when I catch glimpses of what’s in those messages. Words that make my skin crawl. Words that Ray can’t see. Words like detective. Police. Murder. Missing person.

I delete them all, then practically toss my phone aside just as a long shadow creeps around the corner.

“There you are.”

It is Ray.

But it’s not the man who left me feeling so good in the kitchen; bathing in the morning sunlight.

This is a beast, forged from pure darkness.

His tight black turtleneck is ripped all over. His exposed skin practically steams with shallow wounds. His muscles are throbbing. His hair is damp.

His body is covered in dried blood.

“Ray… Master,” it’s hard finding my footing at the sight of him. He looks like the devil incarnate. A wild beast who just returned from a kill.

But whatever he’s just done, it hasn’t left him satisfied. Those rich brown eyes are darker than ever. Still, in the blackness, I see the hunger. I can sense the desire.

He wants to tear me out of my clothes. He wants to make me bleed.

But not through violence.

Instantly, I know what’s about to happen.

He’s going to take my virginity.

And there’s nothing that I can do to stop him.

…. Not that I’m sure I even want to.

15

Francesca

“Are… are you hurt?”

I’ve been around this type of shit for long enough now to know that it’s not Ray’s blood that’s covering his tattered turtleneck.

He’s just been on the hunt. Somewhere out there, another dead body is waiting to be discovered. And Ray’s responsible.

“No. I’m not hurt,” Ray says, a dark smirk lifting up his chiselled cheekbones. “I’m starving.”

When he takes a step towards me, I can’t help but tense up. It’s not just fear, though.

Whoever Ray fought with earlier in the night put up much more of a fight than Jonathan managed to. The thought reminds me of the guilt I felt while I was talking to Janice.

This is my world. It shouldn’t spread to outsiders.

But Ray doesn’t seem to care who gets in his way, as long as he gets what he wants.

And, clearly, he wants me.

“… I can make you dinner,” I mumble, playing dumb. This is the first time since I woke up here that I’ve actually felt like I might be in some real danger.

This version of Ray doesn’t seem like the type to crack jokes or tease me. This version of Ray does what he wants, no matter how fragile the subject of his obsession may be.