“No.” I shake my head so hard my hair flies out.
Another sigh from him. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m tired. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“No,” I repeat like it’s the only word I know how to say. I’d rather die than get into bed with him.
“Fine.” He goes to the door and flings it open. Jackson and another equally terrifying man stand watch on each side of the door like they’re knights protecting their king. “Jackson, Stevenson,” Carrson barks out, his voice commanding. “Help me get her undressed.”
I run for the bathroom, sprinting into it and slamming the door shut behind me. Panting, fear spiking through my veins, I search desperately for a lock to keep them out. There isn’t one. No bolt. No chain. Just a bare knob and thin, hollow-core wood. I glance around for something, anything, to barricade myself inside, but it’s too late.
The doorbursts open.
I scream. My fists fly uselessly, panic-fueled and wild, but the men don’t care. Jackson grabs my arms, pinning them back with cruel ease. Stevenson yanks down my jeans and underwear in one harsh movement. Then they switch. One man sits on my legs, crushing me, while Jackson pulls off my shirt. His eyes drop to my chest, greedy and gleaming with something vile. His hand twitches, reaching, but Carrson appears in the doorway. He leans against the doorjamb, casual and collected like watching women be forcibly stripped in his bathroom is an everyday event.
Jackson mutters a curse and drops me on the floor. I land with a thump on the cold hard tile. Carrson makes a quick hand gesture, twirling his fingers, and the men leave as quickly as they arrived. I’m left huddled on the floor, covering as much of my body as I can with my hands, trying not to cry.
Iwon’tlet this bastard see me cry.
Carrson leaves the room, calling over his shoulder, “Come to bed, or I’ll call them back to put you in it.”
I wait a minute, gathering myself, and then follow him into the bedroom. He turns off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. I still, letting my eyes adjust until I can see the outlines of the furniture lit by moonlight, and then make my way through the room with my hands extended so I don’t trip. There’s the rustle of sheets as Carrson slides into bed. I move to the other side and stand there, indecisive, wondering if there’s any way out of this, but all the exits are locked and I don’t want Jackson anywhere near me. At least the darkness hides my nakedness. I lift the sheets and climb into bed, as far away from Carrson as I can get, balancing on the edge.
“Good Tiger,” says Carrson, who lays on his side, facing me. Dark eyes shine, regarding me. “Isn’t it easier when you don’t fight me?”
He shifts slightly, and I flinch so hard I nearly tumble off the bed. Only my foot planting on the floor saves me from full collapse. I scramble to right myself, clutching the sheets, my heart hammering like it’s trying to break free of my ribcage.
Once I get myself settled back in bed, I glance over to see a single raised eyebrow, like he’s asking what that was all about. I refuse to answer. Carrson will be the last to know my secrets.
“It’s like I said, I need you naked so you can’t attack me,” he says, his voice low.
“How about you? How do I knowyouwon’t attackme?” I hiss-whisper back, red-hot anger sparking my chest. My heart’s pounding so hard I can feel it in my teeth. This night, this whole situation, has spiraled, slipped completely out of my control.
I’m naked. With a killer. A murderer.
This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.
“You saw me get dressed,” he tells me, all calm like he’s the reasonable one in this situation. “I already told you. The only weapon I have is in my pants, and I promise not to use it on you.” He freaking winks at me.
Winks!
I want to strangle him, but his neck is too thick. My hands won’t fit around it. I huff in annoyance, then brace myself for his assault, terrified.
It doesn’t come. We lie there in the darkness, both of us awake. I can tell by how tense his body is, how measured he breathes. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He lays on his back, staring at the ceiling, his eyebrows drawn, mouth tight, expression pensive.
Questions swirl through my mind, so numerous and loud I can’t drown them out. Can’t think straight.What happened to that man? The dead one? What does it mean to be bonded? Is he going to hurt me, rape me, kill me? Who is Carrson? Why are the men in this house sodeferential to him?All the questions merge until one pops out of my mouth. “Who was that man?”
“There was no man. Forget it,” he answers quickly, like he expected me to ask.
“Yes, there was,” I insist. “You killed him. His blood was all over your hands.”
He moves so fast I can’t track it, grabbing my hand from under the blanket. He holds it up. “There’s blood on your hands too, little Tiger.” He’s right. Jackson’s blood has dried on my palm. It’s crusted under my fingernails. Turned into a dark brown stain that flakes into dust when Carrson runs his thumb over it. The sensation of his skin on mine sends a shiver through my body, a full body tremor, head to toe.
My shock deepens when Carrson brings my hand to his face and shoves the tips of my fingers into his mouth. He swirls his tongue across the pads of my fingers, then sucks on them, and something in my core ignites. It turnsmolten. Much to my shame, a tiny moan climbs the back of my throat. I swallow it quickly, horrified by myself.What is wrong with me?There’s a soft smack as he pulls his head back and my fingers pop out of his mouth.
“Delicious,” Carrson says, running his tongue over his lips leisurely, like he’s savoring the finest wine or the sweetest dessert. I snatch my hand back and clutch it to my chest, which heaves, my breath coming way too fast.
A sinister chuckle from him, like he enjoys my distress. “Good night, Tiger. Oh, and if you try anything I’ll drag you downstairs fully naked and spank you in front of the entire house, just like you deserve.” He stares at me and lets the tension build as I picture it, how humiliating that would be. My chin wants to tremble, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I bite my lip, drawing blood for the second time. Finally, I give a single nod into the darkness, to let him know I understand.
“Sweet dreams.” He rolls over, puts his back to me like I’m nothing to fear, and falls asleep.
