When our eyes met, it was like a fire was alight within me, burning deep in my core, enough where I swore the smoke wouldcloud my vision. The rage, the excitement, my heart beating so fast. Restitution; something very few women gain.
My entire reason for poisoning in the first place.
My natural purpose.
I couldn’t help a sarcastic smile. “Kneel, Luka.”
Without so much as even a huff of disapproval, he lowered himself steadily to his knees, only wincing once he put his full weight on the nails digging into his skin. He never once broke eye contact with me. The determination was almost admirable. Unwilling to contribute to my pleasure, but willing to do what needed to be done.
The view could be better. I stepped back, reaching for my broom.
“I trust you still remember the rules.” I smoothed my hand over the wood, stepping to the side of him and leaning by his ear. “For your sake, I hope you do.”
He didn’t answer; he was determined to see it through. His eyes barely regarded me. He was positioned straight on his knees, the skin around the edges dark from the blood. He was fixated on the small window, I assume the one with the small crack in the ninth panel, the one with an old web collecting dust beside it. A couple of dead flies rested on the sill.
I stepped back to grab my chair, letting it shriek against the floor as I dragged it to sit leisurely beside him, facing his profile. He was nice like this, still andquiet.
With the broom against my lap, I waited.
Soon, he leaned back.
Thwap!
The wood end of the broken broom came down on the back of his thighs.
He flinched, but not as much as I hadhoped.
Thwap!
“I wasn’t leaning,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Oh, you weren’t? Apologies.” I hit his front this time, and he nearly keeled over.
I stood, clutching the wood tightly in my hands. I wanted him to give me a reason. Just one reason to beat him until I couldn’t lift my limbs for the final strike. But I refrained. I wanted to know how long he would entertain me. How long I could play with my prey.
I slowly stepped behind him, glowering over him. My knuckles were white from just the grip on the handle.
As I looked closer, I saw a slight tremor in his legs, a small twitch of his head. If he could take any more, it wouldn’t be for long.
I tapped the right trapezius, then the left, then hovered the blunt end just a hair above his spine, all the way down. I know he could feel it, all too aware of where it was, the possibilities, the déjà vu.
I moved finally, circling to the front.
One would think that having a traitor in such a position would bring nothing but elation. It is a natural instinct to want those who have subjugated you to suffer, to feel the pain you once harbored deep within your bones. I looked at him now, and the power in my grasp was strong enough to make my very soul clamor. Yet a puny mustard seed of sorrow was implanted deep within.
I used to see this man as a friend. Ibelievedit with all my heart. Despite my age, those years ago, a girlish wonder was alight the minute someone paid attention, truly took inventory of my person, acknowledged my mind over matter, and did not expect anything from me in return. He was my laboratory partner, a peer, a friend. It was my own stubbornness that kept me from letting him in again, I know that, but among his faults—he was right. If I want to reach my aspirations, I need someone who knows the belly of the beast as well as his own appetites. I can’t make it in their world without a professional.
The only question remaining was—will he yield?
“How do you test a dog’s obedience?” I hummed. “As a trainer, you have to be absolutely certain that they know they’ll never bend the rules again.”
Luka was silent.
“Look at me.”
He glanced up, glaring with a tense brow.
“Open your mouth.”
