It’s a dangerous question to ask, but I ask it anyway. Koen is nearly impossible to read at the best of times, and I need to know what I’m walking into.
Koen’s eyes glint in the dark, which is no comfort. “He’s downstairs.”
I let out a breath of relief and feel a bit of tension release from my shoulders.
Liam’s okay. He’s okay.
“And he’s just as eager as I am to find out why the fuck you set him up,” he says, his eyes reflecting red like the knife in his hand.
I open my mouth to refute his statement, but no sound comes out, because after he speaks, he steps forward, into the kitchen light.
Blood.
He’s covered in it. Both hands are stained crimson, with smears of it all over his clothes, neck, and on the mask itself.There’s a wild look in his eyes that has me moving closer toward the kitchen. The way his head tilts is predatory; the way he’s watching me has me fighting an overwhelming urge to scream in terror.
“What’s the matter, Briar? Surprised to see me?” His voice is so cold, so dark, he barely even sounds like himself.
I freeze. Holding up both of my hands, I attempt to reason with him.
“Koen… wait, you don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head. I can’t move; his icy stare alone has me frozen in place.
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly, little Rose. I was just a payday to you. A job,” he snarls at me, and I wince. The knife is still in his hand, and he just continuously runs his finger up and down the blade while glaring at me. “But I thought you understood the rules—no onetouches family.”
I swallow, and the tiny movement is enough to snap the cord between us. He lunges for me just as I make a dive for my bag. It’s still open, and my fingers close around the rough grip, just as Koen’s hand closes around me.
He quickly redirects me, slamming my back up against the kitchen wall, and holding me there by my throat.
The knife pressed against my jugular doesn’t even waver when I cock the gun in my hand. I press it just under his chin, and click off the safety with shaking fingers.
Koenlaughs,tipping back his head.
“There are those thorns.” His gaze drops back to me, ice cold, no trace of amusement left in his eyes when he leans in, burying the barrel of my gun deeper into his chin.
“Do it.”
I stare up at him with wide eyes, hating how my hand shakes, hating how the scent of him is both a comfort and a terror; the metallic scent of the blood he’s drenched in has my stomach in knots.
“You want to kill me, Briar Rose? Fucking do it!” he half shouts. “Or do you need me to turn around first so you can get a clear shot at my back?”
I wince, and he leans in even closer until his mouth is just over my ear, and his voice drops to a whisper, “Do it.I dare you.”
My grip on the gun tightens, and I let out a whimper of frustration. I can’t.I can’t do it. He’s going tokillme, but yet I can’t pull the fucking trigger.
I’m shaking, crying now, tears once again stain my cheeks. “I can’t.” Exhaling in both surprise and resignation, I lower the gun.
“Should’ve taken the dare.” Koen tilts his head; his eyes look almost—disappointed?
A sharp prick in the soft skin of my neck is a surprise. I’d been so preoccupied with the gun, and with him, I didn’t notice he’d swapped out his knife for a…needle. Fear unlike anything I’ve known before fills me, as my body immediately goes weak; the edges of my vision are already darkening.
There’s pity in Koen’s eyes as I tremble under him; his grip on my throat is all that keeps me upright. He plucks the gun out of my hands easily, taking his eyes off of me for a second to study it.
“No,” I breathe out, my eyes locked on him. My panic alone is all that’s keeping me from going under.
“Koen, don’t?—“
His dark eyes slide back to meet mine, and he cocks his head. His fractured eyes reveal a fractured soul. “Don’t what, little Rose? Don’thurtyou? Don’tkillyou?” he mocks. “I hate to break it to you, darling, but?—“
My eyes dart to the hallway and back.I can’t fight it any longer.I can feel the powerful pull of whatever he injected me with dragging me under.
