Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(60)

“No,” I admit. “Expected some Doktorskaya bologna or smoked mackerel.”

He grimaces, swallowing. “Either of those would be a much better choice, but kitten, she does not like my food, so sometimes, there is peanut butter to make her happy.”

I stare at him after he says that.

“What is that look for?” he asks, tossing his half of the sandwich back in the bag, his point made. He’s not trying to poison me. At least, not right now.

I take a small bite before mumbling, “I’m just wondering when you ever cared about somebody else’s happiness.”

I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

I can see the amusement draining from his eyes.

He says nothing in response, though, watching me as I eat the half of the sandwich he offered, waiting until it’s all gone before he says, “Come here.”

I’m only like a foot away from him.

How much closer does he need me?

Swallowing thickly, I scoot closer, and closer, and closer, as Kassian leans down in the chair, closing the rest of the distance between us. Reaching into the neckline of his shirt, he pulls out the long silver chain he always wears, a set of small keys dangling from it.

My heart races, breath hitching.

His face is right up against mine, holding my gaze, as he grasps the heavy lock.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asks.

Carefully, I nod.

Not a chance in hell.

He sticks the key in, unlocking it, pulling the padlock off before unwinding the thick chain from around my neck. I take a deep breath, relieved at being free—at least temporarily.

The chain clatters when he drops it to the concrete beside me. Standing up, he slips the padlock into his pocket before grabbing my arm, yanking me to my feet.

The second he loosens his hold, letting go, instinct kicks in. There’s nothing tethering me here.

Fuck this.

I run.

I dart for the exit, reaching the stairs in seconds, running up them as fast as my legs will carry me. As I near the door, my head grows fuzzy, the voices on the other side of it loud. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Grabbing the knob, I start to turn it when I’m ripped away, arms winding around me.

“No... no... no... no... no!”

Kassian’ voice is laced with anger, a venomous growl right in my ear. He drags me back down into the basement, not wavering at all, even as I struggle. My breaths are sharp and quick, panic assaulting me. I lash out, trying to hit him, jabbing elbows into his chest, thrusting my feet back, kicking his legs, but his grip only grows tighter.

He pulls me across the room, to the area that used to be a bathroom, shoving me hard onto the drainage grate on the floor. I grimace, catching myself with my hands again, the metal clanging.

“Stay!” he yells.

Kassian uses another set of keys to unlock a nearby cabinet. I peek past him, inside of it, my heart hammering hard, watching as he shifts through supplies... none of which I could do any serious damage with if I stole it.

He pulls out a small hose, a bar of soap, and a threadbare towel.

“If you are looking for weapons, you should know better,” he says, locking the cabinet before turning back to me. “Taking me out will never be that easy.”

He hooks up the hose to the faucet on the wall before draping the towel over the back of his chair.

“Stand up,” he says.

I don’t stand up.

He grabs my arm again, yanking me to my feet as he yells right in my face, “I said stand up!”

I glare at him, staring into his stormy gray eyes. Rage simmers just below the surface, hints of it seeping out, buzzing like electricity between us. It’s like a shock of static. My hair stands on end, the sensation crawling across my skin.

“Hands up,” he orders, his voice low, firm.

I’d rather do anything but give in to his demands, but I think if I push him anymore right now, he might kill me.

For real this time.

I raise my arms as he grabs the bottom of my filthy white shirt, slowly pulling it up over my head before tossing it aside on the concrete.

“Do not move,” he warns, “I mean it.”

I drape my forearms on top of my head, tilting my head up, eyes moving to the ceiling right above me, fixed there as he kneels in front of me. I shudder, feeling his calloused fingers grazing against my skin. He runs his hands gently up my thighs before tugging on my underwear. I wait until he reaches my ankles before ever-so-slightly raising my feet, letting him take them off.

He tosses them aside with my shirt.

His hands settle on my hips as he pulls himself back up, standing, his clothed body flush against mine. He brings his mouth to my ear, my breath hitching as he whispers, “I can smell him on you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, still not moving, as Kassian turns on the hose. A cry escapes me the second the water pelts my chest, so icy cold that it stings, like needles piercing my skin. I breathe deeply, chanting silently to myself, trying to block it all out, trying to numb myself to it.

You can do this.

It’ll be over before you know it.

Go to your happy place.

My happy place, in the little white house with the bright red door, blasting cheesy pop music and dancing around the kitchen with my little girl. Singing along at the top of our lungs, only knowing half the words, but it didn’t matter how terrible we sounded because we had fun. Laughing until we cried, watching cartoons and baking cookies, as Buster stood guard, protecting us from monsters. My happy place, full of love... so much love. I’d do anything to have it back.