“Artyom. No. I can’t. I won’t. I’m the one who went on a date with him.”
I go to her, cupping her face and stroking away her tears.
“I know you did. You let another man touch you again? You let him think he could have you? There are consequences.”
“I’m not like you. I can’t hurt people for fun.”
“You’re not hurting him, Nina. You’re saving his life. Because if you don’t carve the word ‘thief’ into his chest, and make it hurt, I will. And I won’t be nearly as careful as you are.”
The man lets out a strangled sob.
But no sound he could make would be enough to arouse suspicion in a place like this.
I know exactly how the Irish treat their women.
Nina doesn’t. But still, it was fucking stupid of her to come here.
I hand her my knife and she takes it with a trembling hand.
I raise an eyebrow. “Better stop shaking or he really will die.”
“Fuck you,” she replies, pressing her mouth together in a line. But she turns, leaning over his chest, and traces the word out with her fingers. She can recognize when I’m deadly serious.
Keane falls silent, probably realizing it’s better not to have his chest heaving with sobs while Nina uses the knife.
At first, the man screams so hard I think the Irish might reallybe alarmed. Then he passes out on the table.
She works with deft, efficient strokes. And fuck, maybe I have a competency kink, but she’s hypnotic to watch. The lines she carves are perfectly straight, and she’s using enough pressure to cut through a few layers of skin but not enough to kill the man. It’s his chest, so the wounds bleed freely, his chest becoming a crimson mess. But the blood doesn’t make her flinch, even as it pools on the padded leather.
Nina makes eye contact with me as she makes the final cut. There are tears gleaming in her eyes, but they haven’t fallen. She was holding them back so she could get the job done, because she’s a survivor.
The word THIEF is spelled out in stark crimson cuts across Finneas Keane’s chest, blood smeared around the wound. The scars will be visible in his every fight from now on. Most importantly, he’ll never touch Nina again.
“I hope you’re fucking happy.”
“This isn’t about being happy, Nenoka, this is about teaching you a lesson. Do you see what happens when you forget you’re mine?”
I stalk around the table and place my hands on her shoulder, spinning her to face me. I lean down to meet her amber eyes, hoping she realizes how serious I am.
She gently strokes the soft hair at the nape of my neck, then she shoves my face forward. I feel the point of the blade prick my skin.
I can’t help it, a smile spreads across my face.
She’s holding the bloody knife at my throat.
“If you ever test me like this again, I will cut off your ballswith this knife, Artyom.”
The hunting knife drops to the concrete floor with a metallic clang as she leaves the room.
19
NINA
“Well.”
“Well?”
“Are you going to apologize?
