I pad downstairs, and when I hear the rustling of the chains, I open the door to Jacob’s room and step in.
His eyes widen, and he freezes, slamming his back to the headboard as the light from the living room floods in.
I noticed at dinner last night he kept the knife, and I let him, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to do anything with it, but if it made him feel safer and more relaxed, I was fine with it. He’s trying to dig at the wall to get out, and I chuckle. Even with the proper tools, it would take days to chip and dig the bracket out of the wall.
I step towards him, and he stands at the end of the bed and throws his arm behind his back. It’s cute, really, that he thinks I didn’t see the knife in his hand, and I quirk a brow at him. “Whatcha doing?” I fold my arms across my chest. Smirking at him.
“Nothing…” he snaps. Then, he sighs. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Uh-huh.”
I take a step towards him and then another. There’s a split second of indecision that flits across his face before he lunges for me, grabbing the back of my neck and bringing the knife to my throat. His eyes are wide, like he can’t quite believe what he’s doing himself.His breathing is erratic, panicked almost, and I’m sure if I look hard enough, I will see his heart pounding.
“Whatcha got there, tough guy? Oh no… I’ve been taken hostage. Whatever am I to do?” I mock. And he frowns at me.
“I w-will kill y-you,” he stutters out.
“Okay.” I smile. “You’ve got me. Now what?”
“What do you mean… Now what?”
“Well, now what are you going to do? You’ve taken charge of the situation like such a big boy. You’ve overpowered the kind of… bad guy. You’re going to kill me with the bluntest knife in the world. What’s your next move?”
“I’m gonna escape and leave you to die.” He spits at me.”
“Really, from the terrible gnarly knife wound?”
“Yeah.”
He pants, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. I can see he’s getting frustrated with my lack of fucks to give. However, it’s kind of nice having his hand on me, so I’m going with it. Does that make me a little twisted? Sure, but he’s so close, I can see the fear in his eyes, and I can’t deny I kinda like it.
“Okay, so you kill me, what’s your next move?”
“I free myself and leave.”
“Okay, so what? You emptied my pockets and grabbed the key.”
He nods.
“Go on then.” I slide my hands out to the side, holding them away from my body. “Go on then, take the keys.”
He releases the back of my neck, still holding the knife to it. His hand shakes slightly, and I try not to smile. He slides his hand into my back pocket, and I want to groan as he rummages for the keys. Then, he slips his hand into the two front deep pockets of my sweats, rummaging inside, and I bite my lip as he brushes so close to the part of my body that’s screaming for attention from him, and when he finds nothing, he jumps back like he’s been shot, still wielding the knife in front of him like it will fend me off, and the corner of my mouth ticks.
“You don’t have the keys.”
“Nope, so now I’m dead, bleeding out all over the floor. With the… horrendous knife wound you’ve inflicted, eyes wide and staring in shock, you one-upped me and managed to kill me, a trained assassin with the world's bluntest knife. So, what’s your next move?”
“Stop it, stop mocking me.”
“I’m not mocking you, Jacob—”
“Stop it, stop saying my name like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like that, it's creepy.”
“You like it?” I grin, and I see the flash in his eyes. He likes the way I say his name, which confuses him.
