CHAPTER 27
Riven
Monster - Starset
Neon light burns against my retinas the moment I open my eyes.
I grunt and sit up.
My head spins, and dizziness washes over me.
How the hell did I end up asleep?
One second, I'm fighting Evren, trying to get away, and the next everything goes black.
I look down at myself and realize I'm no longer wearing my pajamas.
I feel a cold dread settle in my gut and freeze for a second like someone is watching me.
I turn my head and spot Evren.
My face darkens, my eyes narrowing.
He kidnapped me and changed my clothes while I slept—God knows what else they did to me while I was unconscious.
I stumble out of wherever I am and head for the first thing I see—the desk.
I find a knife and hurl it.
The blade whistles through the air, missing Evren's head by barely an inch.
Damn it.
A thin trickle of blood runs down his cheek, and something dark unfurls in my chest.
I hurt him.
I start to smile, but the expression vanishes the instant he speaks.
“Next time,” His voice relaxed. “Go for the throat or the eye.”
I pant, looking at him.
“What am I doing here?” I ask “Where I am? And why the fuck are you watching me like a creep?!”
He sighs and walks slowly to me until his chest nearly brushes mine.
He looks down at me, tilting his head.
“Still fucking talking.” He leans in “You are in my garage, that means, my rules, my orders and that applies you shutting your mouth and staying to fix my car.”
“What the fuck do you mean, I’m staying?” I want to step back but hand up hitting the desk with my back “I’m not staying in this—here. Are you completely insane?”
My fists clench and unclench as rage burns through me, and it takes everything I have not to slam this bastard’s face into the nearest wall.
Even if physically, it’s impossible.
“Oh, but you are.”
The amusement vanishes from his face, leaving only the hard lines sharpened by the cut on his cheek.
“Because you owe me. A lot.” He pauses, each word dropping like a verdict. “You. Are. Staying.”
His tone is flat and commanding, making it clear he’s done arguing.
But I’m not done, not even close.
I’m not staying. I’ll never stay with him again, and I sure as hell won’t play house with his gang like I’m on vacation just to fix a fucking car.
Not happening.
“I don’t owe you shit,” I spit, letting the saliva hit the floor in a gesture of pure defiance. “You deserved everything that happened to you. You started this!”
“Yes,” His hands moves to each side of my hips, caging me in “And believe me, there is not a minute that passes since I met you that I don’t regret it.”
He pauses, his eyes hardening in something I don’t understand.
“You are fixing my car,” he orders “You are staying until then, I don’t like it either.”
One of his hands comes up, his knuckles brushing roughly against my lips.
I pat the desk's surface until my hand closes around something.
In one swift motion, I drive it forward.
Only then do I realize it's a screwdriver.
The tip barely sinks into his shoulder before his hand shoots out, wrapping around mine and stopping the motion cold.
My eyes widen.
“So,” His voice drops into something almost intimate. “That's how it is? You want to stab me?”
Before I can answer, he closes his hand over mine and slowly forces the screwdriver deeper into his own shoulder.
His expression never changes. He doesn't even flinch.
What is wrong with him?
This man is not normal, and I know I am not either, but this is beyond any normal people.
For a second, I can’t speak, I’m too shocked.
My pulse pounds wildly beneath his hand. There’s no way he doesn’t feel it.
“H-How?” I stutter.
“Mods.”
He is so close that I see flecks of gold-brown around his pupils, swallowed by the green consuming the rest of his irises.
He releases me abruptly and steps back.
He grabs the screwdriver, yanks it free, and tosses it aside.
Still completely unfazed.
“You can run, Riven.” He gestures to his office’s door “You’ve got nowhere to go. No way out. Go ahead, see how far you get before I send one of mine to drag you back.”
His voice drops, low and dangerous.
“And believe me, they’re a lot less interested in your defiance than I am.”
I sidestep him and sprint for the door.
I’m getting the fuck out.
He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t roar.
He moves.
With a speed that blurs, he crosses the space. He doesn’t tackle me.
Just as my fingers brush the door handle, his arm snakes around my waist from behind, yanking me clean off my feet and back against his chest with brutal force.
I’m completely caged, his arms are iron-steel around me, blocking my arms from moving.
“Let go!”
I thrash against his grip, trying to break free.
In one swift, brutal motion, he yanks me away from the door and shoves me sideways.
I stumble, catching myself against the edge of the desk.
Before I can right myself, he’s on me.
He closes the distance, his body colliding with mine, using his weight and strength to drive me down across the hard surface.
He follows me down, pinning me beneath him, his knees on either side of my thighs, his hands grabbing my wrists and slamming them down onto the cold wood above my head.
“This is fighting,” he growls, his voice a low, thrilling vibration. “This is me, not letting you go. This is you, trapped. Staying.”
He grinds his hips down against mine, the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently through our clothes.
A wave of heat and disgust travels me.
“You want to kill me? Go ahead.”
My chest rises and falls quickly, as I stare right into his gaze.
“Tick-tock, troublemaker.” His eyes gleam with something dark. “Choose.”
He brings one of my wrists toward his mouth.
I fight the movement, but he’s firm and utterly unyielding.
His lips brush my skin, and before I can tell him to fuck off—or do anything at all—he bites down.
A sharp gasp tears out of me. Pain explodes through my wrist.
I try to jerk away, but I can see my own blood welling around his teeth as he sinks them deeper.
I scream.
Rage crashes into me, tangled with pain.
Using his grip against him, I surge forward and slam my forehead into his face.
He ducks the blow.
The hand that had been gripping my other wrist above my head shoots to the nape of my neck, holding me there for a split second before he spins and slams me, chest-first onto his desk.
I cry out, more from shock than pain.
“Let go! I’m not staying! Go to hell!”
I scream, fury tearing through me.
“Already been there.” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “And I came back just to drag you there with me.”
He pauses.
“Hit. Me. Harder.”
A shiver runs through me, and my stomach knots.
He turns away, dismissing me completely.
“Ren,” he calls, yanking the office door open. “Get her some tools. Take her to my car. She'll fix it. She stays there until it's done. Tie her to the fucking car if you have to.”
He glances over his shoulder one last time.
The lights in his office cast shadows from his lashes across his cheeks.
Then he grins before turning his attention back to Ren, who's still standing in place.
“She doesn't sleep, and she doesn't leave until she fixes it. You and Varek will make sure of that. Bring her food and water. Teach her how to replace the windshield, the side mirror, and the windows. Show her how to pull the dents out of the hood.”
Ren nods and starts toward me.
I've already straightened, heaving violently, my hands trembling from the adrenaline.
I want to rip his throat out and make sure he watches me chew on it before I spit it back at him.
I step back as Ren approaches, a snarl ripping from my throat like a feral cat's warning.
“Do not fucking touch me, or I swear I will—”
“You'll do nothing to him,” Evren cuts me off. “And he won't touch you.”
He's already reached the doorway.
“But try to lay a hand on one of my men, and I'll deal with you myself.” His voice turns deadly serious. “And when I'm done with you, you won't be making threats. You won't be touching anyone. You won't even be walking.”
Then he walks out, leaving me alone with Ren.
“Okay, the boss says you're staying, which means you're staying.”
Ren's short blond hair gleams beneath the lights, the faded red streaks matching the Crimson Velocity colors splashed across the garage—Black and red.
“Try anything, and you'll die. Or worse. Follow orders, fix his car, and you might make it out.”
He pauses.
“Maybe.”
Ren turns and walks away, clearly expecting me to follow.
Reluctantly, I do.
If I want to get out of here, then for now, I have to play along.
But this isn't over.
Not by a long shot.