Page 3 of Blood We Steal

He stepped forward.

The slow, creeping dread that filled me with each one of his steps was excruciating. I stepped back one last time, and then there was nowhere to go. The heavy door felt cold against my back, the smell of furniture polish potent, but also nothing.

Not with Rubin this close to me. Close enough that I felt the heat and the hate that rolled off his body.

I squeaked when he lifted his hand.

He didn’t go for my shoulder or my waist or my throat. He took my wrist. Lifted it between us like he wasn’t sure it was real and pressed his thumb to my pulse. He held it there, unhurried, like he wasn’t a prisoner and I wasn’t the one who’d put him here.

He smiled for a moment, a fleeting flash of teeth. And then his fingers were against my skin. Heavy on my cheek. Not pressing, not pulling away, just…there. And then more intense. The press was heavy, not quite painful, but present in a way that made me want to run. But again, there was nowhere to go, nothing to do but look at Rubin as he shifted even closer, his body pressing me flat against the door.

I stayed there for an eternity of seconds, Rubin’s heartbeat reverberating through my chest.

“How much, Simone?” he finally said, his voice a grating rumble of rage.

Terror of the sort I never experienced seized me, but Rubin’s gaze promised worse than I could imagine if I denied him again.

My eyes watered, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. Under his thumb, my pulse gave me away.

“I did it for free.”

TWO

Rubin

Free.

She betrayed me for nothing.

Did that make it better or worse?

Did it matter?

I stared down at her plain face and unremarkable brown eyes, unable to look away.

There had to be something there that would make me understand.

She stared back at me, the same Simone I had thought I knew so well.

Intelligent, meticulous, quiet. Practically invisible.

I’d thought that made her perfect, but it was exactly that that had put me here.

I clenched my fist. No, it wasn’t Simone who had put me here.

I had done this to myself.

It was my own blindness, my own weakness that allowed this meaningless woman to betray me.

It was my fault, and my time here was payment for that crime.

Now, Simone would pay for hers.

In truth, she should have already paid. The day the witness list leaked should have been her last. Damian had told me he’d do it himself.

I’d stayed his hand. I hadn’t believed it true that Simone—quiet, nothing Simone—would walk into open court and betray me.

But she had and that same round face, soft voice, and kind eyes had laid out my misdeeds in exacting detail, every calmly uttered word adding to my sentence.