Chapter 27 Angel #2
I was different than I had been five years ago. I was stronger. I was far better than she ever would be. I repeated that mantra in my head as I heard the man say something else to her. Whatever it was was lost on me as I focused on not crying. Jackie’s response, however, was loud and clear.
“I want it to hurt,” she cried. “Make it hurt, Blade. I want her to suffer!”
“Of course.” Blade looked from Jackie to me as I lifted my head, and as I stared back at him, I realized he was not Gaven.
They might have both been killers, but this man had no attachment to me and no reason not to follow Jackie’s commands.
He nudged Jackie towards the door. “Go get your nose fixed up,” he said. “I’ll take care of her.”
Jackie’s hand clapped over her face as if she’d forgotten her broken nose.
She flinched as she accidentally bumped it.
The look she cut my way would have set me on fire if it burned any hotter with hatred.
“I have to go make sure Gaven doesn’t show up on my doorstep again,” she said, her voice slightly muffled but still every bit as resentful.
“Make sure she’s dead, Blade. When I return, I either want to hear screams or nothing. ”
“You should have taken care of the man before,” Blade replied, but as he stepped forward, he reached into his suit pocket and withdrew a small pouch—it looked almost like a roll-up shaving kit.
Jackie snapped her fingers and gestured for the remaining men to follow her out. The man on the floor, clutching his dick and balls, groaned but got to his feet and limped after the rest of them.
Blade didn’t move until the door clicked shut behind him and only then did he stride across the room to the desk slightly behind me.
I turned my head, gritting my teeth as the movement stretched my skin down my neck and subsequently my wounded shoulder.
Setting the small satchel he’d withdrawn, I watched as he unrolled it.
Instead of shaving supplies—not that I’d really thought it’d contained something so mundane—the bag revealed several sharp-looking knives and tools.
I was not so naive that I didn’t know what they were for—they were instruments of torture.
Fuck. I had to figure out how to get out of this and soon or else Jackie would get her wish.
“Your sister is quite the hot-tempered woman,” the man said, almost casually. Selecting one particularly wicked-looking knife, the man held it up and twisted it in his grip as he admired the polished metal.
I inhaled sharply. “She’s only going to drag you down with her,” I cautioned him. “You should stop while you can—my husband—”
“Yes, she told me all about your husband. Mrs. Price—or should I refer to you as Belmonte?” Blade turned to me and moved around until he was standing in front of me.
I stiffened and cried out as he set the very tip of his knife into the top of my bare thigh and dragged it downward, cutting a perfect line down the center of my upper leg. Blood welled up and slid down either side. I panted, gasping for breath.
“Since your husband is much like me—or at least in the same business—you’ll understand then that this isn’t personal.” The knife pulled away from one thigh and touched the other one. “If you tense, it’ll make it hurt more,” he warned right before he performed the same cut.
“Fuck!” The curse slipped out. He was right—tensing definitely made it hurt like a bitch.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the need to cry.
I’d done a lot of things in the past five years, been put into a lot of different situations, but I’d never been tortured.
I wasn’t confident in my ability to hold out until I figured a way out, and I was starting to wonder if I ever would get out.
In the back of my mind, Jackie’s earlier words echoed back to me.
Something about Gaven coming here … was he still here?
If he were, there was no fucking way he’d let this happen.
Even if he was pissed at me for running away again, Gaven was nothing if not possessive.
He would want to punish me himself, and certainly not like this, not when I was still considered the key to his success and desires.
After the second cut, I started to realize why Blade went by that name.
He was adept with them. More than adept; with each cut, he seemed to fill with life.
His eyes heated as he crouched before me and watched the blood drip down my inner thighs.
My stomach cramped. My head pounded. My shoulder fucking throbbed.
“Even if you’re a hitman,” I said through clenched teeth, “you should understand that working for the wrong people can get you targeted. My husband’s going to fucking kill you for this.”
Blade blinked and looked up at me, almost annoyed by my disturbance of his entertainment. He sighed and straightened. The man towered over me, all dark shadows and furrowed brow.
“Your sister is obsessed with things that don’t matter,” he said. “If your husband doesn’t kill her, then I will eventually.”
The admission shocked me. “Wow.” I huffed. “You're quite cold for a man who just had his tongue down her throat.”
He shrugged. “Just because I have every intention of getting rid of the woman, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what she so easily offers in the meantime.”
“Then why bother following her at all?” I snapped, leaning forward as I worked my shoulders against the chair I was strapped to.
The tape around my wrists pulled, my flesh smarting at the small rips, but still …
I was getting there. Closer and closer to freedom.
I couldn’t rely on Gaven to save me. If he even knew I was here, there was no telling if he’d make it in time.
Plus, there was still my client to consider.
Blade flipped the knife in his grip up into the air and deftly caught it again.
Blood stained the flat metal side. My blood.
I glared at it, finding the sight more offensive than anything he’d said or done thus far.
The second I got the chance, I was going to shove that knife right through his throat.
“Here’s one lesson before you die,” Blade said, leaning over me as he gripped the back of the chair with his free hand. He turned the knife back to my face and held it inches in front of me. “Consider it a farewell gift.”
“Fuck your gift,” I sneered, spitting back at him as I struggled against my bindings. The tape was getting looser with each movement. He didn’t even appear concerned, the arrogant ass.
“Now, now,” he said, using the sharp end of his knife to lift my chin, smearing my own blood on my skin as he did so. “Don’t be like that. This is important to me.”
I breathed through my nose. My anger gave me strength. It poured through my system, heating me from the inside out. I glared into Blade’s face and waited.
“Victory, little girl, goes to those who will do anything to get it.”
Well, that, I had to admit, was right. But if he thought he was the victor now, then he was in for a rude awakening. As he pulled his blade from my face and lifted it in the air, I felt one hand break free at my back.
“Now, scream pretty for me, sweetheart,” he said. “I want your sister to hear you from all the way across this house.”
I stared into his eyes and just before he slammed the sharp point of his blade into my other shoulder, I twisted and dodged. The knife lodged into the wood at the back of the chair and I turned and glared at him.
“You first, sweetheart,” I said as I curved my now free hand around the hilt of the blade and yanked it out.
He arched a brow as I stood up, pushing him back. Yeah, he still thought he had the upper hand. He was taller. Bigger. Stronger. But I was pissed—and he was definitely underestimating the level of feminine rage contained in my much smaller body.
Anyone could be a killer if you gave them the right incentive, and right now, incentive was all I fucking had.
I took a step towards him and stopped as a loud shattering noise erupted. Glass breaking. Masculine screams echoed through the closed doors. Both Blade and I turned towards it.
Well, I thought, looks like I was wrong. Gaven really was here.