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“If you want to live, you won’t touch that door again.” I growled. But this was good. She was fighting.
Before she could respond, I was across the room. I gripped her throat, pressing her into the wall. Not enough to truly choke her, but enough to scare her. With my other hand, I twisted the knife out of her hand.
“If you do that again, I’ll use this knife on you. And I’ll do things you couldn't fathom. I’ll inflict so much pain that you’d be willing to confess to crimes you didn’t commit.” I growled, as she stared at me wide eyed, holding my wrists as I gripped her throat, and I watched as one giant tear streaked out of the corner of her eye.
Fuck.
I gritted my teeth and continued. I released my death grip from her throat and she collapsed down to the ground, coughing. I grabbed a leg, trying to ignore how buttery soft her skin felt against my palm as I dragged her into the kitchen. My heart sank when she stopped fighting me. She froze, terrified, and let me drag her into a chair, trembling as I zip tied her hands behind her back, and zip tied her legs to the chair.
She looked at me trembling, but the terror in her eyes was palpable, and as I stood across the room, I slowly removed the metal instruments from my bag and set them on the counter one at a time. It was a simple method, really. I wasn’t even touching her. But I watched as her eyes roamed over the metal instruments as I placed them on the counter, one by one.
I, of course, wasn’t going to get anywhere near her with any of these. Not a chance in hell, but she didn't know that. No, these instruments I had used to pull information out of the most tight-lipped of men. No, I wouldn’t touch her with these. When these instruments were being inflicted, even the strongest of men would break, eventually. As she trembled watching me, I knew that even in her wildest dreams, she couldn’t fathom the pain that could be inflicted with these tools.
Finally, with all the mental instruments laid out, I leaned against the counter and stared at her. Really looked at her. Though we lived next door, I didn’t see her terribly often, mostly in passing. She was the daughter of one of my dearest friends, and I gladly kept an eye on her for him, but we were rarely in the same room. We’d never had much reason to be social outside of me hanging out with her dad. And at this moment, I realized, I didn’t know if I hadreallyeverlookedat her.
Her dark long hair hung wildly over her shoulders and dipped over the soft curve of her breasts. She was wearing atinylittle tank top andshort,little jersey shorts. Her skin was flushed as her chest heaved over and over. I realized she had grown into a woman and was quite beautiful, quite filled out now. I felt surprised as my cock strained against my zipper.
I caught her eyes again and shook my head, remembering to keep up the ruse. They were wild with terror, darting all around, assessing, looking for a way out.
“What are you going to do to me?” She whispered.
I brought myself back to the present. I knew her life wasn’t in any real danger, but she didn’t. This was allveryreal for her. I gritted my teeth, remembering Viktor wanted photos. Just scaring her wasn’t enough; I’d have to leave some physical evidence that I was here.
I felt myself softly uttering, “I’m sorry.” Before I could even catch the words. I struck her hard across her cheek. The easiest way to get big obvious bruising with minimal true damage.
She sucked in a sharp breath and looked at me with fury in her eyes as tears welled up. “What the hell do you want?” Her voice bordered on hysteria.
I struck her across the other cheek.
“What do you want?” She screamed at me.
I grabbed a knife off the counter and twirled it around in my hand in front of her. I squatted in front of her, putting us at equal eyeline. “What did you dig up?”
Her chest heaved. “I don’t know what you mean?”
I sighed and walked around behind her. I grasped her throat, tilting her chin up to me, as I rested the cold blade against her skin. I leaned into her ear and lowly repeated, “What did you find?” The smell of her skin was intoxicating. I could feel the heat radiating off her neck. I found myself wanting to taste the skin where my blade was resting. So soft, so tender. The blade I held was sharp. Extremely sharp, and as I held it at her skin, a small bead of blood dripped down her neck, where the blade easily broke the first layer of her skin.
She jerked with a sharp gasp.
“Easy now, sweetheart. You move like that while I have this blade here. Well, let’s just say our fun would be over a little quicker than I had planned.” She held very still, but I could feel her pulse in my other hand. Her heart was racing, and her breasts heaving. At this angle, I had quite the view. I flicked my eyes away, feeling conflicted at the war raging inside me.
Was this attraction I was feeling?
It couldn’t be.
“I don’t know anything.” She gritted out.
“Well, sweetheart, we both know that’s not true.”
“I don’t know anything.” She dug in hysterically.
“Well, if you’re not willing to talk, I guess I’ll have to start taking things from you with this knife.”
Her voice broke. “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”
“It’s too late for that.” I trailed my hand over her jaw and wound it through her hair, wrapping my fist through the length of it once, and then twice. Then, in one swift motion, I sliced the length off at her shoulders and she gasped as I dropped the cut length of her hair in her lap.
“Next time you go digging where you shouldn’t, it’ll be your fingers I’m dropping into your lap.” I came around in front of her, and she was boiling angry, and even more scared.
