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Turning slowly, I met his eyes, shivering at the grotesque grin stretched across his face.
My heart raced, but I stood my ground, the familiar yet eerie surroundings of the room lending me a strange sense of fortitude.
The stage was set. Now, it was a matter of executing the plan, drawing on every ounce of courage and knowledge I possessed.
The moment of confrontation was inevitable, and every sensory detail of the room—every creak of the floor, every shift in the dust-laden air—was etched into my mind, cementing my resolve in the face of what I had to do.
“Get on your knees, Tess.”
I shook my head. “No. Not this time.”
He stepped forward. “On your fucking knees. It’s time you’re reminded who owns you.”
He seized me by my hair and pushed down on my head. The sharp tug on my scalp and the pressure on my neck made me shout and stumble, landing me on my knees as he wanted. “Hands behind your back.” He tightened his grip on my hair so much I thought it would rip out. My throat tightened, and my mouth dried in fear. If I couldn’t get the matches from my pocket, I wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing what he had planned.
It didn’t matter. While he was cumming down my throat, as long as he didn’t snap my neck, I could get the matches.
“Look at me, Tess.” I did, and he smiled, the tattoo making it seem grotesquely wide, but no friendlier. Ivan couldn’t appear friendly if he tried. Even before the tattoo. “Lick your lips.” I let my tongue slideout along my top lip from left to right, keeping eye contact. He jerked my head back, and tears pricked my eyes. “Oh yes, I want to watch you cry as you gag on my cock Tess. You know how I like that, don’t you?” I nodded slightly. “Get it out.”
I reached up and unbuttoned his jeans. Pulled the zipper down slowly with shaking hands. His cock was already hard, of course. The psychopath loved terrorizing me. Sometimes he came all over my face while I was still pulling it out, before I even opened my mouth.
“Fuck, open up,” he snarled. But a noise from behind him caught my attention, and I swiveled. Ivan twisted around to check, too. But nothing was there.
A shout from the opposite side drew us in that direction in time to see Reaper sweep his hand down between us. Ivan shouted and fell backward.
Bewildered, I glanced between them, trying to figure out what was happening.
Reaper held the gas canister over Ivan, the liquid pouring out in quick glugs as Ivan writhed on the floor, moaning as if he was half-conscious. He peered up at me. “Now!”
I was frozen and disoriented.
“Do it, Tess!” I turned to him. “The matches! Now!”
I scrambled to my feet and shoved my hand in my pocket, pulling out the matches and striking one against the side. It wouldn’t light.
“What the fuck are you two up to?” demanded Ivan.
“Hurry!” Reaper barked.
“I’m trying!”
I struck another match. When it lit, my heart jumped. With the smell of all the gasoline, I almost expected the whole room to light on fire.
“Throw it!”
I threw it, and it landed in the puddle of liquid around Ivan. The puddle grew a gentle flame, and Ivan started chuckling. “Jokes on you,” he rasped. I didn’t know why he would say that, but the guy was a psycho, so he didn’t always make sense.
“Fuck!” Reaper shouted. “He’s wearing a bomb!”
I looked down at Ivan and saw him holding his jacket open. Sticks of dynamite were taped to his chest. “Wha—”
I didn’t even get to finish that one word before it was all over. Reaper leaped, wrapping his arms around me. I waited for the impact of us both crashing to the floor.
But it didn’t come.
Chapter Thirty-One: Shattered Chains
Tess
