Page 7

Just between my barely spread legs is a knife speared into the wooden plank behind me.

Chapter 6

I swallow hard, realizing that somehow the man not only put a dagger impossibly close to my private area, millimeters away from me, but that he managed to bury it in the loose fabric as well— thank god I wore the wide legs today.

The crowd is going crazy, but it’s hard to hear them with the thundering of my heart inside my ears. My blood has run cold, from excitement? Fear? I’m not sure. I feel his presence coming up beside me, his soft chuckle as he comes in front of me.

He reaches down, grabbing the knife before his hands touch my zipper and button. I try to pull away from him but he pulls on my belt loop, keeping me in place.

“What are you doing?” I seethe, my words coming out in a hiss.

His eyes sparkle with danger. “Trust me. I need to see the full outline of your body to avoid any unnecessary accidents.” He undoes the button and tugs the zipper down with one quick motion. “Already had a hard enough time with these, should apologize for the hole in them – but I won’t.”

“You want to take my pants off? In front of all these people?” I look at him, trying to kick out. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself.”

“You wound me, Kitten,” he covers his heart in fake hurt. “As much as I would happily oblige you, I do have a show to put on ...” He looks around, the crowd growing restless, “and I need to see your body so I don’t hit it. I haven’t trained with you like I have Melody. Now, I could let you go and disappoint the crowd or ...” he softly tugs on the hem of my jeans. “You can be brave.”

Something about the way he says it, like a challenge, has me ready to prove myself. Because if nothing else, he’s been ... mostly kind. Kinder than Tobias, and right now ... he could be my next lead to finding out what happened to my sister. “Fine.” I kick off my shoes and use my toes to pull off my socks, still dangling by my arms. They hit the floor and his eyes light with a fire inside them.

“Stunning,” he murmurs.

My breath catches as his fingers slide along my waist, fingers hooking into the denim as he maintains eye contact. “Lift,” he commands softly, and I raise my hips as much as my suspended position allows. He pulls the rough fabric down my legs leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“My audience expects a show, and I never disappoint.” He has me turned, facing the audience again. He tosses my jeans to the stagehand once more and takes a step back. The stage lights are hot against my skin, and sweat starts to prickle down between my breasts beneath my tank top. I didn’t realize I’d be on stage in a tank and underwear tonight, but I guess here I am.

He walks to a nearby table, retrieving a velvet-lined box and opens it with a flourish towards the audience. Inside a set of throwing knives gleam, and I realize now these are more ornate than the one he threw the first time. These look more like actual performing knives instead of the ones that looked personal to him.

My heart nearly beats out of my chest as I watch him select the first knife, spinning it between his fingers. “Look at me,” he says loud enough for me to hear, and my eyes jet to him.

The knife flies past my ear, embedding into the board with a solid thunk. I gasp, unable to control my reaction.

“Perfect, Kitten,” he grabs another knife. “Don’t hold back.”

The second knife sails past, slicing the air so close to my hip I can feel the wind as it passes. A small sound escapes my throat — somewhere between a gasp and a moan. Get yourself together, Emerson. I try to ignore the coiling heat deep in my core.

His eyes never leave mine as he selects a third blade, his fingers caressing the handle in a way that could be considered sinful. Between the heat pooling in my lower belly and the way he’s looking at me ... the crowd fades into a distant buzz. All I can see is him.

“You’re enjoying this more than I thought you would,” he says again, his voice pitched only for me.

The next knife docks between my thighs, so close I can feel the cool metal against my skin through my underwear. My back arches instinctively, wrists pulling on the restraints and whimpers slipping through my lips.

“God, the sounds you make,” he growls, stalking towards me with another knife between his fingers. “I wonder what other delicious noise I could draw out of you.”

He circles behind me, and I feel his breath hot against my neck as he comes to the side, his chest touching the side of my arm. “Stay perfectly still.”

He walks back to the front of me, before two more knives fly in rapid succession, framing my waist. My breath is coming in short pants now, my body shaking with adrenaline.

“Let’s make this little Kitten really purr, what do you say?” His voice is loud over the speakers once more. A stagehand appears with a bright red apple. Kenan takes it, polishing it against his pants before approaching me again. His gaze burns into me — through me as he traces the apple’s surface across my collarbone. “I’m going to need you to open those pretty lips for me, and bite.”

I part my lips and he pushes the apple into my mouth. I sink my teeth into it, the juice spilling down my chin as I look at him.

“Good girl,” Kenan whispers. His fingers brush against my jawline as he positions the apple just right. When he’s done, he looks at me, but it’s not with the hunger that was previously in his eyes. It’s almost with ... sorrow? I furrow my brow, keeping the apple in my mouth, unsure of what he has planned.

He steps back and his muscles flex beneath his shirt as he balances the last blade on his fingers. Without any warning, his arm moves in a blur and the knife whistles through the air. The knife sinks into the apple with a resounding thud, nearly splitting it in half while my teeth cling to what remains. Juice now runs down my chin in sticky rivulets and drops onto my chest.

I can’t breathe as the knife quivers less than an inch from my face.

The crowd erupts into wild applause, their screams and whistles taking over the large area. My head swims and nausea rolls in my stomach at how much terror just registered through me. My thighs tremble with it all - fear, desire, confusion.