A tear breaks off from one corner of my eye. I try to reach my leg upward and kick him in the balls, but he’s faster than me, moving away. The motion is awkward and my ass slides down a step on the stairs, pulling at my wrist cuffed to the banister.
I can’t say words anymore, so I let out a low, growling scream.
A door opens somewhere down the long, upper hallway.
Someone else is up here.
I use my free hand to wave the person over from the far end of the hall.
Look at me.
Holy fucking shit, please look at me and intervene. Whoever you are.
I need you to look this way.
My breath catchesin my throat as I see tattooed skin.
Miles of ink spread over a shirtless broad, muscled chest.
It’s him.
Fucking perfect.
Sevan Berlant is going to see me like this, cuffed and bent awkwardly on the stairs, so out of place in this fucking house.
Sev’s messy black tufts of hair spill out over the top of his intricately patterned silver mask. His suit pants are slung around his waist, the deep V-shape of his abs leading downward at the waistband. His skin is flushed, like he was already engaged in some sort of activity before coming out here.
He looks down at us from the top of the staircase, his arms hanging at his sides.
I focus on the dark raven on his lower arm.
“Problem?” he says.
Sev’s grey eyes connect with mine and he studies my gaze for a moment. While he was injured and using a wheelchair, I’d forgotten how genuinely intimidating it feels to just exist in the same room as Sev. He’s probably only an inch or two taller than me, but it feels like I’m standing next to a titan as he steps closer.
I’ve been through a lot in my life, but I’ve never come close to feeling as pathetic as this. I know Sevan can’t tell it’s me, but I’m watching him while a metal gag is shoved in my mouth and the front of my suit jacket is pushed to one side, my own blood trickling down onto the front of my hoodie.
“Only problem is he wouldn’t stop talking,” the other man says.
“Understandable. He wanted to be gagged?”
The guy hesitates. “He wanted to. Deep down.”
Sev’s gaze slides up and down my body, and then his gaze returns to the other man.
“I think you should undo his restraints,” he says.
“No. I’m just getting started.”
Sevan shakes his head. “I want this one. Let him go.”
“Fuck you.”
Sev comes down the stairs quickly. His fist connects with the guy’s head a moment later, and for the first time I’m actuallygratefulto see Sevan Berlant starting a fight. Sev gets him to the ground and slams his arms against the steps, pinning them in place. He pries the knife from the guy’s hand and holds it against him, instead.
“Undo his cuff.”
“Not happening.”