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My palms and knees sting with the force of the landing. He already has me by the hips as I try to scramble free. Fingers dig into my hip bone, holding me in place. I kick out and fight against his hold, fight to get away from him. Fight for a different reality.
A sharp point nicks my neck, and I freeze at the pain.
“Do you know what this is?” He strokes it over my nape before slicing easily through the back of my shirt, leaving me instantly bare from my waist up.
No. No. No. Fuck. I’d bought him a butterfly knife for Christmas. It’s the only thing he wanted that I could afford. I even had his name engraved into the handle. Now, the blade I picked out is digging into my spine.
“Please,” I cry desperately.
“Fuck, I knew you’d beg for it.” The sound of his zipper going down breaks something in me. He’s barely holding me.
I can’t let him do this.
I break free, scrambling forward on the smooth tile. It’s milliseconds before his knife digs into my lower back, cutting a deep horizontal gash as he drags me back.
“That wasn’t very fucking nice. Look what you made me do.” He pushes the knife in deeper, and warm liquid trails over my hip.
My cry catches in my mouth, the pain stealing away my ability to breathe. Something hard pushes at me from behind, and I try. I try so hard to break free, but this time, he digs the knife into my shoulder blade, forcing my head down.
Tears splash down around me as the pain wins the battle against my mind, and the mercy of blackness takes over.
Chapter 36
Damon
“Don’t get blood in my car, asshole,” Matthias says as he parks in front of Misty’s apartment.
I rub my palm over the dash, smearing red over the tan leather, and wink. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Fucking cheery, asshole. You’re lucky we like her.”
My jaw twitches, and I glance his way. “What do you think would happen if you didn’t?”
“Fuck. Easy. I was kidding. Sensitive.” This time, Matthias’s mouth quirks to the side, and all the anger drains out of me.
Misty’s doing wonders with him, and she doesn’t even know it.
Knowing she’s upstairs, laid out asleep, has me climbing out of the car.
The window rolls down behind me. “Take a shower before you give her nightmares.”
I look down. Blood splatters my white shirt and hands. Right. Shower first.
The apartment’s quiet, the lights turned off when I step inside. She’d looked so exhausted earlier. Matthias was the only reason I didn’t follow her home. I don’t give a single fuck about my responsibilities, about the fact that they caught two traitors, that I’d be the one to dole out their punishments. I’d leave that all to my brothers if that meant I could take care of my wife.
She’d looked delicate, almost fragile. None of the fire lit up her eyes. I hated it.
The light is off in the bedroom, complete silence emanating from it. I have to fight against the pull to go to her and head to the bathroom instead.
The sound of running water is my first sign that something is wrong.
Nothing prepared me for the sight in front of me when I open the door.
Misty is curled in on herself, fully dressed, body shaking under the spray of water.
My throat closes, making it hard to swallow, as I stumble into the room. I push the shower curtain open further and climb into the tub with her. The water’s brutally cold, freezing through my shirt as it rapidly clings to me. I cover her from the spray, using my back as a shield as I adjust the temperature. How long has she been in here?
The tub’s small, so I pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her, trying to put heat back into her.She’s trembling against my chest, her fingers digging into my shirt.
