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I’ve been down this hallway. It leads to private rooms for poker. The same type of room that changed my life.
He pushes a door open on the left, guiding me in and I freeze as my eyes meet familiar ones.
Chapter 10
“No person is your friend who demands your silence or denies your right to grow.” - Alice Walker.
Joseph's eyeswidened in shock. The black almost takes over the boring brown of his irises. He begins to rise, almost as if hewants to run to me, but quickly looks away. His jaw hardens as an arm slips around my waist. I don’t bother looking. The way his thick, callused hands catch on the material of the bodice gives him away. I feel stiff as Atticus leads me around the table, pulling me onto his lap. We are seated right across from Joseph, but I look everywhere but at him.
I take in the room. How it’s different from the last one. This one is bigger, a full bar resting behind Joseph. The chandelier hanging above us. The… my thoughts trail off as a rough hand slides up my thigh through my slit. Hot breath on my neck as his other hand slides right under my breast. “Lean back and get comfortable,Little Bird. It’s going to be a long night.”
His whiskey voice heats my neck, trailing up behind my ear where he nips me playfully.
My body shivers, relaxing into the vast expanse of his chest. His finger tips my chin back until my head rests on his shoulder. His fingers rubbing up and down the column of throat as his other hand grazes up and down my thigh.
“You let another man fuck you while wearing my ring?” I startle, my head shooting up, my eyes locking with Joseph’s, widening. “I knew you were nothing but a gold-digging whore.”
My mouth falls open. Gold digging? Sure, but a whore I am not and even if I was, who fucking cares.
Atticus stiffens under me, his arm wrapping around my middle and pulling me closer to him. I hear a snap next to my ear and people from around the room move, pinning Joseph to the poker table. His arms stretched wide, his head angled to look up at Atticus and I.
Atticus rises, arm still curled around me, forcing me to stand with him. His body boxes around me, his chest covering my back as his hands rest on the table beside me. “You lost the right to speak to her the moment you gambled her away as if she was an object instead of a person.” Atticus brushes his nose alongmy neck, causing my eyes to close. “In fact, I don’t want you even fucking looking at her.” His voice so cold and calculating it makes the temperature in the room drop.
“Little Bird,” He purrs against my neck. “Give me the ring.”
My hands tremble as I pull the engagement ring off my finger, dropping it into Atticus’ awaiting hand. Atticus looks at it, laughing under his breath as he examines it. “Pathetic.” And then the ring is bouncing off of Joseph's face. I gasp out of shock and have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the look on Joseph's face. “Spread his fingers for me.” Atticus says, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. “Which finger, Little Bird?”
“I…I don’t know.” I answer honestly.
“Well, the thumb will bleed excessively due to the pulse inside of it. But the index finger can be sensitive, might hurt more.” He shrugs. “The little finger doesn’t have a lot of tissue, making the chance of missing the bone unlikely, but that doesn’t really matter. I’m going to hit the bone of whatever finger I take. If you want to think further into it. I can tell you which finger is linked to what part of the body?”
I shift, looking up at him. “You can?”
His eyes sparkle, lips tilting slightly. “I can.”
“Hmmm… I feel like losing a thumb would suck.” I muse.
Atticus chuckles. “It would.”
Before I can voice any more thought on it, Atticus brings his knife down on his thumb. Blood flies, hitting me in the face and splattering on my dress. I turn my head, burying myself in Atticus' neck to stifle Joseph's loud screams. I find them more annoying than sad.
“You don’t disrespect her again, got it?”
“Yes.” Joseph cries.
I felt it then. The click inside my chest. The obsession that’s going to get me killed for being completely and irreverently enthralled with my captor.
“Great, let's play some poker.”
I lean against the bar,watching as Atticus talks to some scary men. Which is saying something. His eyes never leave mine though. Darkening and swirling as he watches me.
The blood from Joseph stains my dress and the table, there is even some on the corner of Atticus' lip that I want to swipe my tongue over.
Ew, no, I don’t.
But maybe…
My spine snaps straight when I realize the room is empty except for the two of us. Atticus sits his glass down, undoing the black bowtie at his neck, allowing it to hang loosely as he stalks around the table. His hand wraps around my neck, tipping my head back as his lips brush over mine, “Turn around.” He rasps.
