My mother smiles down at me gently. Tears still cling to her thin, fragile lashes, and pain dances across her face so starkly it almost looks physical.
“Some tears need to be shed alone, my star,” she whispers, her words dripping sorrowfully. I crawl onto the stool next to her and lean in, surveying the picture she has tucked away. The one she always cries over.
“Who is he, Mama?” I ask, running my finger along the outside of the picture.
Her mouth twitches on one side and her throat bobs. “My knight in shining armor.”
“Then why isn’t he here?” I wonder. “Aren’t knights supposed to be with their princesses?”
“Not all princesses get their happily ever after.” Clearing her throat, she snaps the locket shut. “And some princesses have a bedtime. Go get your water.”
Giggling, I hop down from the chair to grab a glass of water. Once I am done, I place it in the sink and hold out my arms. Smiling, my mother lifts me into her arms, cradling me to her chest like I am the most precious thing she owns.
“One day,” I yawn. “I’m going to have a knight of my own.”
“Not all knights have shining armor, little one,” she warns me, her voice low and thoughtful.
“Mine will,” I tell her stubbornly as my eyes begin to close. “And he will never leave me.”
The door to the cell creaks open, letting in a stream of dim yellow light from the hall. I don’t open my eyes, but I can hear his voice. It is low and garbled, as if he is trying to talk to me while I amunderwater. Smooshed nose has no doubt done some form of damage to my ears.
Upside, I don’t have to listen to their shit.
Kellan’s footsteps echo loudly in the quiet room. I keep my breathing even, eyes shut, hoping he will think I am still asleep and leave me in peace.
I am never that lucky.
“I know you’re awake, little one,” he sneers. His hand clenches around my jaw, gripping it tight enough to bruise. “No need to pretend.”
His cold eyes greet me when I open mine. He is only inches from my face. My heart thumps in my chest wildly when I see the long, curved blade in his hand. My jaw clenches, the pain grounding me. I refuse to show this fucker any ounce of fear.
“Stay still,” he whispers to me seductively. He presses the tip of the blade between my breasts and slides the knife slowly through the fabric. “You won’t need this much longer.” He smiles down at me, like I am his lover and he isn’t forcibly undressing me. The velvet fabric gives way easily beneath the sharpness of his blade. He mumbles an insincere apology each time the tip of the knife nicks at my skin, causing blood to swell to the surface.
I grit my teeth, refusing to make a sound.
“Your grandmother informed me that you are such a docile little lamb,” Kellan murmurs. He keeps stripping at my dress, piece by piece, until it lies in ribbons surrounding me. I lie before him, shackled in nothing but my underwear. My breasts are on full display, and the lascivious way he licks his lips tells me he isn’t hiding his attraction to my body.
“I’m not,” I snarl at him. “You should ask for a refund.”
Kellan chuckles darkly and presses the blade against my right nipple. I hiss at the pain that blooms when he slices a shallow cut across my areola.
“There are so many ways to break someone, you know,” he keeps murmuring. At this point, I’m sure he is simply talking to hear his own voice. He doesn’t care what I have to say on the subject. He just wants me to listen to his endless droning. If I weren’t tied down, I would slam that knife through his vocal cords. Then no one would have to hear him speak again. “Pain is the most common, of course. Cutting. Sawing. Beating.” He lets out a wistful sigh, like he is recalling a happy memory. “But from what I’ve learned about you, that won’t really work.”
He grins down at me when he feels my body stiffen in response to his words.
“That’s what I thought.” He chuckles like it is the best news he has ever received. “You know pain all too well because of that wretched Christian Ward. The man doesn’t know the art of torture and making someone fear it instead of leading the subject to adapt to it. A waste, really.”
“No,” he continues, the knife in his hand skating along my pebbled skin. “But I’ve watched how you respond to looks…touches…” He trails off, his free hand running up my inner thigh. I kick my leg out, which isn’t shackled, and nail him in the stomach.
My reward is a slice of the knife down the middle of my upper thigh. I scream, unable to contain the sudden pain that sweeps through me.
“Keep it up, little one,” he growls. “I don’t need all your body parts. Just the useful ones.”
“Yeah?” I sneer. “I doubt any of your body parts are useful, so feel free to swap places with me. I’ll gladly remove some of your appendages.”
The fucker laughs. Not one of those half-assed ones either. He lets out a full belly laugh that, if under different circumstances, is attractive as fuck. Too bad he is the creepy-ass villain in this story. He would sure as hell make an amazingmafia bad boy in one of those smutty romance novels I love so much.
“Did you get anything from her yet?” Marianne’s cool voice seeps into the room. Kellan smirks.