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She pretends to be interested in the movie, keeping her eyes glued to the screen, but I know she is faking it because her reactions to anything happening on the screen are basically zero. No laughter at a joke, no sadness when someone dies. She simply stares at the screen with the same facial expression throughout the film.
“Enjoying the movie?”
Her head snaps up, startled by my voice. “Beats sitting in my room and staring at the wall.”
“So TV and movies are not your thing?”
“Not really, no.”
“So what do you do for fun?” Getting her to talk is like pulling teeth, so I’m surprised when she actually answers.
“I grew up in a single-wide trailer with a chain smoker who didn’t do much besides watching soap operas and talk shows during the day and movies at night. So fun for me means doing literally anything besides that.”
“Like going to the mall?” Seems like something teenage girls would do.
“Didn’t you hear the part about the trailer park? Where do you think I would get money from to go to any mall?”
“Your dad had lots of money.”
“Well, he wasn’t keen on sharing it with me,” Delilah grits through her teeth. Her hatred for her father seems real, but that doesn’t mean much. Valentine's blood still runs through her veins.
“If you say so.” Getting up from my chair, I walk up to where she is sitting and reach for the remote next to her. “I’m leaving for a few hours. So get back to your room.”
“Where are you going? It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”
“That’s none of your business. Get up.”
“No.” She crosses her arms over her chest like a bratty teenager.
“No?” A smirk tugs on my lips. “I must have given you the wrong impression by letting you sit on my couch and watch a movie. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have treated you this well.”
Her vigor leaves her right away. She lets her arms fall beside her, and her shoulders slump. “I don’t deserve to be locked up like an animal.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You deserve all of this and more.”
“Why? What did I ever do to you or anyone?”
“You exist.” That’s the short answer. I don’t have any proof she is guilty but having Valentine blood run through her veins is enough for me. She is part of that family. She is the only one left to punish. And I will be the one doing the punishing.
In one quick move, I grab a fistful of her hair. An ear-piercing shriek rips from her throat as I force her down on the couch. Her arms flail out, her short nails digging into my skin.
Her fight is short-lived when she catches sight of the knife I pull from my boot. The light catches the sharp blade, making it shine just like I want it. The panic in her eyes grows, and the strength in her arms diminishes.
I press the blade against her slender throat, not hard enough to pierce the skin but firm enough to scare her. She is only wearing one of my white shirts. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, pressing her tits against the thin fabric. I can see her rigid nipples through it, wondering if she is more than frightened.
Wedging my knee between her legs, I hover over her, reveling in the sight of my blade against her skin. I could hurt her so easily. Make her suffer until she begs for me to end her.
Replacing my knife with my hand, I wrap my fingers around her throat to hold her in place while I lower my knife to the collar of her shirt. Dipping the tip inside, I slice up and through the fabric until it gives away.
Delilah holds her breath and lifts up her chin in hopes of avoiding being cut. Lucky for her, I don’t plan on cutting her just yet. Instead, I slice through the rest of the shirt until it’s completely open and falling to the sides of her body.
She is completely naked underneath, and with my knee between her thighs, her legs are parted enough for me to see her pretty little pussy.
“I wonder how loud you would scream if I fucked you with my blade?” I let my favorite knife travel down her body, through the valley between her tits, down her belly button, until I reach the top of her mound.
“Please don’t.” Her bottom lip quivers. “I’m sorry. I’ll go to the room.”
“Are you sure? It seems like you wanted to play games with me. So let’s play.” I dip the knife lower, running the dull side of it through her folds. Her whole body is frozen now.
She is so still that I don’t even see her blink.
“I’m sure. Please stop,” she begs, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
As soon as I pull away, she scrambles off the couch and runs to the guest room. She slams the door shut behind her without another word.
