He stops next to the bed, and those notions die a swift and brutal death.
A tank.
The man is a goddamn tank. And I’m going to die without mercy under the weight of those bear paws he calls hands. I don’t stand a chance.
"Please," I beg him. "Please, Javi. You don’t have to do this.”
His name on my lips startles him, at least momentarily.
“You know of me?” his voice echoes through the space and sends another wave of terror straight through my chest.
Javi’s file said that he doesn’t speak to anyone. That’s what Art told me. That’s what my father told me. For all the agency knows- he can't speak verbally at all. But it isn’t true.
It isn’t true at all.
His words are accented with a Spanish lilt. Beautifully so.And he said them to me. A low growl rises from his chest, and I try to curl into myself.
“How do you know of me?” he demands. “How do you know my name?”
“Your file,” I whisper. “I read your file.”
Another growl.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t block it out. I can still hear him. He takes a step closer. Then another. And then he is sitting on the bed next to me.
When I open my eyes again, he reaches for me. His fingers touch my face. Rough. Huge.
Lethal.
I wait for his wrath. For my death. But it doesn't come.
His palm drifts down my cheek and over the sensitive flesh of my throat before dipping to my heaving chest. He's only an inch from my breast when he stops and jerks away.
The impact shifts his hood slightly, and I can see him now. See his wild, golden eyes staring back at me.
The scar that slashes right through his eyebrow. He has the bone structure of a Viking. One who looks as though at any moment, he might pillage my very soul.
"Javi," I whisper.
Again, his name on my lips seems to knock his senses astray.
He rises and disappears, only to return a moment later, placing a fresh cut rose on the pillow beside me.
"Why are you doing this?" I beg. "Please tell me."
"Are you ready, beauty?"
"Ready for what?"
He smiles. And his teeth are perfect. His lips, sinister.
“To sing me a song.” He touches my arm with a featherlight caress. “With words only I can hear.”
When he releasesme from my restraints, I dare to hope. I dare to believe that he isn’t as bad as I’ve heard. That maybe there is still some humanity left in him.
A notion snuffed out completely in the next breath.
He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a red rubber ball with leather straps attached. When he moves towards my face, I try to jerk away, but he captures me by the hair and wrenches me back. My scalp burns from the force of his grip and my eyes water.