Chapter 15 #4
Staring down, I eyed his gold ring. It had the symbol of a broken halo engraved against the gold.
He didn’t have to ask me twice to use a knife on him. I carefully started driving the knife between his fingers.
While I didn’t plan to stab him, thrill pinched my insides at me being the one holding the knife.
“You have to go faster than that,” he snarled in irritation. “No pussyfooting around.”
I stilled for a moment before upping my speed.
Just a little.
My brain thrashed against my skull.
“Faster, Blair!” He crashed his other hand onto the table, rattling my hold on the knife.
I upped my pace slightly more.
“I said, fucking faster!” He clamped his hand around my wrist, cuffing it, and controlled my speed.
My soul nearly drained from my body while he hammered the knife between his fingers. We got through one hand pass in mere seconds.
He did it again.
And again and again and again.
Until all the anger coiled inside me unraveled and snapped free.
I added force, helping him slam the knife into the table so violently that it rocked beneath us. My mind went blank as I lost control, releasing all my pent-up frustration.
My view grew fuzzy to the point where I could hardly make out his fingers. They became hazy shapes.
I froze, reality crashing in, when I heard a sharp crack.
I’d stabbed his finger, the knife connecting with bone. It wasn’t all the way through his middle finger, but it’d broken through the skin. I yanked the knife out, and blood trickled from the wound.
It was a tiny spot at first, before crimson-red gushed out.
He grinned down at his hand. This was what he’d wanted. He knew I’d hit his finger, and I’d never get out of being his Fawn.
He grabbed the knife, slipping it back into his pocket, and leaned back in the booth to inspect his hand.
My blood boiled as I waited for his response.
He stared down at his finger, smearing the blood, and grinned. “You hit bone. Color me impressed. I’m shocked it didn’t go deeper.”
I didn’t say a word because I couldn’t form them.
His heavy gaze dragged from his finger to me. “How’d it feel, Blair?” He scooted closer, sliding his elbows across the table. Near enough that our lips almost brushed. “How’d it feel to finally release that anger built up inside you?” His alluring voice pulled me into his orbit.
Since the table was narrow, he didn’t have to move much to lower his head and draw my lower lip between his teeth. The taste of that burned sugar returned to my mouth, now mixed with hints of Enzo.
“Tell me how it felt,” he said with full fascination.
In a trance, I whispered, “Great. Empowering.”
“That’s my girl.” He reared back a few inches. “That’s my Fawn.”
He pulled away, grabbed his glass, left the booth, and stood behind me.
I shifted in the chair, pretending to be more uneasy than I truly was, when he ran his fingers through my hair. I only hoped he wasn’t using the bloody one.
His calmness was brief.
I winced in pain when he clutched a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back.
My stare crashed into his violently.
He smirked while using his hand holding the glass to open my mouth. Bourbon splashed onto my face before dripping down me.
My jaw fell slack, opening my mouth, and he poured the bourbon down my throat. From my position, I couldn’t easily swallow. His grin twisted into something more sinister as I choked, fighting to drag my head back up.
He tapped my cheek condescendingly before releasing me.
I tipped my head forward, forcing down the liquor and gagging as I swallowed it.
His body still felt warm behind me as he trailed his fingers across my jaw. “Your Initiation is Friday night. You’ll skip your classes, and someone will collect you in the morning.”
I jerked back when he pulled my chair out, turning it, and dropped to his knees in front of me.
I whimpered when he skimmed his hand up my leg. I was suddenly grateful I’d swapped my skirt for pants earlier. He didn’t stop until his hand rested over my mound. He made a petting motion, gently caressing me through my jeans.
A thousand sensations vibrated through me.
Some feelings I’d never experienced before.
A deep craving spread through my insides.
I suddenly felt hot. So hot.
As he massaged me between my legs, I’d never felt so full but empty down there.
This man was driving me to the brink of insanity.
It had to be the liquor he’d poured down my throat.
“Don’t fail your Initiation,” he told me, teasing my clit through my jeans.
I had to bite into my lip to stop myself from begging him to take off my jeans to feel his touch more intimately.
Enzo was the evil I’d been blamed for being all my life.
He suddenly stood, his face now serious, and offered me his hand. I took it and allowed him to lift me to my feet. The moment he had me in his grasp, he swung me around and shoved me against the wall.
My hand smacked into it, and I moaned at the feel of his hard cock pressing into my ass.
He swept my hair from my shoulder, his lips brushing my earlobe. “You either survive Initiation or you don’t make it out alive.” He sucked on the skin beneath my jaw. “You’ve learned too many of our secrets. Be strong to become my Fawn, Blair. Your life depends on it.”
After leaving wherever the hell we had gone, Enzo led me back into the woods. This time, he at least waited as I walked away from him so I wasn’t alone.
He propped his back against a tree and told me to go straight back to my dorm. At first, I thought it was another one of his games, like he’d try hunting me on my way back. He didn’t.
During my walk back, I knew one thing for certain: I’d get through this year, stay strong, and not end up like Enzo’s previous Fawns.
All I had to do was survive this year.
I entered the university and prayed Arisono wouldn’t suddenly appear like a ghost to deliver another strike. My body loosened when she didn’t.
My mind was still a cluttered mess, so I decided to stop at the library to clear it.
I turned the corner and collided with someone. That someone reached out as I stumbled backward and grabbed my elbow to stop me from falling to my knees.
His deep voice rumbled, “Blair.”
I pulled from his grasp as my attention darted forward. Immediate distaste flooded my mouth as I locked eyes with someone I didn’t trust.
“What are you doing here?” I asked my stepfather.
He stood tall in a black suit, looking around like he didn’t want us to be seen together. It’d been months since I’d last seen him. I was happy his hairline was receding more.
I always hated the way he stared at me like he was now.
A nauseating blend of impassive but threatening.
You could fear this man without him actually doing anything to explain to anyone why you felt that way.
His eyes narrowed into cold slits. “Arisono asked me to come speak to her.”
“About me?” I asked. My voice sounded too pathetic for my liking.
He nodded. “She said you have two strikes.”
“Let me explain—”
“No need. As I explained to you before, this is it. Your mother is already disappointed about the two strikes. You don’t want to make her feel worse, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good.” He reached out to clap his hand over my shoulder. “Stay out of trouble.” He shot me one last unnerving look before maneuvering around me and walking away.
I hunched forward, resting my hands on my knees.
That conversation with him had created just as much anxiety inside me as the knife game with Enzo. The quiet hum of the library no longer sounded inviting.
I made a U-turn and headed back to my dorm instead, praying that I didn’t run into anyone else on my way there.