Mack points up to the top of the stairs where Amara is standing. Even from this distance, I can see the shock in her eyes.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Did she honestly not take my warnings seriously?
Handing Eli my gun, I dart up the steps to my room. Anger escalating with every step I take. Obviously, I need to teach her a lesson. She needs to learn that my word always matters and must always be obeyed.
The second my foot touches the top step, I hear the door to my room click closed.
I forcefully push through the door, making it slam into the wall, but I don’t even care. I don’t care about scaring her or breaking shit. All I care about is her learning to listen and obey what I say.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay in here?” I question her, already knowing the answer. She is sitting on the far side of the bed, her face hiding behind a mess of brown hair.
My voice is heard only by myself, though, because she doesn’t look up. This only throws more gasoline onto the fire. Maybe I need to remind her who is in charge…
I walk over to my desk to grab my favorite knife out from under the drawer. Wrapping my fingers around the wooden handle, I cross the room and grip her arm, pushing her down onto the bed. Her eyes grow even wider with fear as she takes notice of the knife.
“I didn’t mean…”
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it.” I press the blade against her slender throat, making her fully aware of what it is that I can do, will do, to her.
“I don’t care about your excuses. When I tell you to stay put, I mean it. I don’t say it for shits and giggles, Amara. This world isn’t the world you’re used to.” Every word that slips from my mouth is laced with some sort of self-induced anger.
Rationally, I know I have no real reason to be this mad at her, but it pisses me off that she didn’t listen. I press the side of the blade to her skin, but not the edge. I want to scare her and not actually cut her.
“I’m sorry.” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes and slide down the sides of her face. I feel my heart beat heavy in my chest as I watch more tears slip from her eyes.
I pull the knife from her throat, shove it into my back pocket, and stand to my full height. She is still looking at me like I just killed a bucket full of kittens.
Sitting up, she asks, “Why did you kill him?” It’s so quiet, I’m not sure she meant to ask it. She looks down at the floor, her brown hair flowing around her head like she just brushed it.
She’d changed out of her dress and was now wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white spaghetti strap tank top. She looks so young and innocent. I almost want to wrap her up and send her as far away from me as I can get her. But I won’t because I’m too selfish.
“He deserved to die.” It is that simple. I untuck my dress shirt from my slacks, pulling at the buttons to take it off.
“People don’t just deserve to die.”
“They do when they owe me money, even more so when they steal from me. Not that any of this concerns you.” I sound like an asshole. Even though I have no reason to justify my actions, I feel like I have to. I feel like I need her to understand why I did what I did.
“Did you ever think he needed the money? Maybe he was poor and had a family?”
“Generally, anyone who comes to me needs the money. It doesn’t matter what it’s for, Amara. If you make a deal with the devil for your soul and lose, he will take it. Well, in this case, I’m the devil. They made the deal, I was just following through with the soul taking part.”
Her nose tips up, and her eyes grow with a fire that makes my dick ache.
“You’re a monster. A sick, horrific monster that gets off on using and abusing people.” The distaste in her voice only makes me want her more. A smile pulls at my lips as I pull my shirt off completely. Her eyes go straight to my bare chest and stay there for a moment. Even if she thinks I’m a monster, she is still attracted to me.
“Ahhh, continue telling me how much of a monster I am. Please,” I mockingly plead, tilting my head at her. She narrows her eyes, and her tongue dips out of her mouth and onto her bottom lip to moisten it. She looks like a snake ready to strike.
Her eyes leave mine as she adjusts herself in the bed, her body rolling over as she pulls the covers up and over her head. I must have misread her. I thought for sure she was going to come at me with something snarky.
I head into the bathroom to wash my hands and dispose of my blood-covered clothing before making my way back out to her. It’s strange seeing a woman in my bed, but at the same time, it fits. Like she belonged here all along.
“Are we done playing games already?” I taunt her, walking over to the bed and sliding into my spot. She scoots closer to her side as if getting away from me is her number one priority. That’s too bad because getting closer to her is mine.
Reaching out, I put my hand under the blanket and latch onto her arm. A squeal escapes her mouth as I pull her toward me. Of course, she has to fight me.
“Let go of me,” she grits out as she tries to shake me off. Does she think she can win? Does she think I won’t hurt her? I will…
Fuck, I won’t…
“Nope.” I pull harder until she is on my side of the bed, and I’m leaning over her. Our chests are pushed against one another’s, and her breaths are coming at a rate that is way higher than normal.
“Stop,” she breathes out in frustration.
“Why?” I ask, cocking my head, enjoying our current interaction very much. I’m not touching her, at least not like I want to be.
“We don’t know each other. You said we’d take it slow.”
“I also said to obey me, or I won’t be so nice anymore.”
“I don’t think there is a single person in the world who would use the word nice to describe you.” Her voice no longer that of the meek girl she had just been, I smile to myself at the strength she is showing. It will be a pleasure to break her. “And you can’t hold it against me that I don’t want to sleep with a man I only met yesterday under the worst circumstances ever.”
I laugh a full, belly shaking laugh. “You do realize that you… well, mostly your body, will be paying your father’s debt, don’t you? Every moan, groan, orgasm, and every spread of those legs will be payment. Don’t act like you didn’t know what you signed up for.” Her eyes dilate as her breaths become pants. For a long moment, she says nothing, and I try to figure out how much of her reaction is fear and how much is desire.
Suddenly, she finds her voice. “I didn’t have any other option. I would rather be taken than lose my only parent.”
Her statement tugs at my heart, pulling me out of the haze that is consuming me. I can tell myself over and over again that I don’t have a heart, but every word that comes from her mouth reminds me that I do.
“Roll over and go to sleep,” I grudgingly command, standing from the bed. She looks at me in confusion, wrinkles marring her beautiful face. She is beautiful, unlike anything I’m used to. Her face is soft, her cheeks full, and she radiates youthfulness. Her nose is small, and her teeth are straight and white. She is simple, but at the same time, not so simple, you wouldn’t notice her.
“Did I finally hit a sore spot?” she taunts, sitting up from her lying position. Her voice is pitched, and her face is etched in anger. I want to be proud that she has a backbone, but I also want to break it, snapping it into itty-bitty pieces.