My scowl is immediate. These are my things. “What are you doing?”
“The man’s hide, it’ll be here soon.” New items are being placed on the table. Knox is efficient with the large knives. The oil bottles. The paper towels. “Need to flesh him. After that,”—he picks up one of the knives and runs his finger along the blade, testing its edge—“depends on how thin his skin is, I’ll either hang him on the hook or salt him. Then…”
He looks over his shoulder at me, jerking his chin toward the barrels.
“Liming.” I finish his sentence, less jealous now that I’m so eager to please him. “To remove hair, fat, and protein, right?”
“Clever.” He’s studying the table, his head bowed.
I think he’s reveling in our conversation. I keep at it, then, rattling off more information that I’ve learned online. “You have to rinse them later.”
His one firm nod is a sign that I’m doing well. My heart expands, practically swimming in his approval.
“But the tanning pools?” I ask. “The part that seals the deal and turns the hide into leather? They aren’t here.”
“Oh, they’re here.” He turns around and leans against the table. His attention is fixed on me, encouraging and dangerous. Hot. “Where, Skylar? My smart, beautiful woman, you know the answer. Go ahead.”
He isn’t touching me, but these words, they’re fingertips caressing my collarbone. Lips trailing paths along my jaw.
It takes a minute or so to realize it’s— “The livestock. Where you said the livestock is, anyway. Under the tarp. The restricted area. That’s where the tanning pools are. The livestock sounds are fake.”
A tidal wave of pride and accomplishment slams into me when he says, “That’s my girl.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach when Knox walks over to me and plants a kiss on my forehead.
Then he starts examining the hooks. Where he hung me.
This, too, is mine.
And he might put Easton on one of them.
Jealousy strikes harder than before. A whip lashing at me.
He’ll treat Easton’s skin like he’s treating me. Take care of him. Flesh him onmytable. Hang him onmyhooks.
Inourbasement.
A sense of betrayal sets in, clinging to my pores.
“No.” I bolt out of the chair, rushing to Knox. Pulling on his shirt. Demanding his attention. Dammit, what has he turned me into? “No. Absolutely not. Stop.”
He cocks his head to the side. His predator eyes study me anew. “Stop?”
“You can’t touch him.” A scowl tugs at my lips.
“Why not?” Knox isn’t amused or laughing.
He covers my hand with his, pressing mine closer to his chest. Pretending to be confused.
Lies.
He’s not really asking,Why not. He wants me to return his possessiveness.
I would’ve called him out on being a greedy bastard, except…
Impossible. He’s fucking hot.
“Knox Colbert.” I rise on my tiptoes, barely reaching his chin as I force myself to meet his gaze. “You can’t touch anyone else, dead or alive. You. Are. Mine.”
