“Both handsome. Both skilled at hockey. Both have futures in the NHL. Both a little obsessed with you.” Smirking, he leans back on the bed. His hand pressing the mattress near her knee. “But when you take away all of those things, the only thing he has that I don’t is money.”
“I don’t care about money,” she says softly.
Jackson chuckles and slides the blade of the hunting knife between his fingers. “Don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.” She stares up at the ceiling. There’s tension in her arms and legs like she wants to move them. Needs to get away, but can’t.
“Don’t lie, pretty girl. It doesn’t suit you.” He grabs her leg and slices the knife down her jeans, splitting them open from the knee down.
She hisses and a small streak of blood appears on her calf.
That’s one.
“Careful,” he says and glances at me. “I don’t want to hurt you, Evan.”
I doubt that. He wants to hurt both of us, and he knows hurting her will hurt me.
“See, I could take away his looks.” He studies me and leans over to drag the knife along her other pant leg from the knee to her ankle. This time the blade doesn’t touch her skin. “I bet if I fuck you in front of him, he won’t want you anymore. But I will.”
I grind my teeth together. I can’t give him anything. He can’t know how this is tearing me up inside.
“But he’d still have hockey and the money.” Jackson smirks at me before turning to kneel over her on the bed. He grabs the neck of her hoodie and holds it up. “Don’t move, pretty girl. I don’t want to cut your breasts before I get a chance to play with them.”
He slides the blade down the front of the sweatshirt, cutting it in half. She turns her head to the side, and I can see her chest rising and falling rapidly. There are red marks on her neck from his hands.
That’s two.
“I can see why they want you.” He traces the tip of the blade along her bra. “What do you want, Damon?”
“Her,” I say it so she can hear it. So she knows no matter what happens in this room, she’s mine, and I will always be hers.
“Interesting.” He turns to face me, sitting on the end of the bed again. His dark eyes narrow on mine. “Would you choose her over hockey?”
“In a heartbeat.”
She gasps.
“Prove it.” Jackson smiles and stands from the bed. “Cut your Achilles tendons and I’ll let her go. She can choose whether she wants to be with you or me.”
“Give me the knife.”
“Damon, no!” she cries out. “We don’t settle.”
“It would never be settling with you, Evan.” I meet Jackson’s eyes and hold my hand open for the knife, waiting.
He smirks and reaches into his pocket for a pocketknife. He comes a little closer and tosses it on my lap where I can reach it. “It might take a little bit to really saw into those tendons, but I’ll find it entertaining. Try not to bleed to death.”
“You’ll let her go.” I open the blade and glare at him.
“After I get a taste.” He smirks, focused on me. “After all, it’s only fair if she has to choose that she has all the information.”
Evan moves behind him, capturing my attention. Her head is turned toward the door, and she nods. Cam bursts in and grabs Jackson around the shoulders, hauling him backwards. Jackson stabs the knife back toward Cam.
“Cam!” Evan cries out and tugs at her bindings.
With a grunt of pain, Cam shoves Jackson out the door.
When Cam grabs the handle of the blade in his outer thigh, Evan yells, “Don’t pull that out!”
