no one raped or beat her.
Amara looks conflicted. I know she is trying to figure out who to believe, and I can’t blame her. She has every right to be wary of both of us.
My gaze is ping-ponging between John and Amara’s tearful face when I catch the smirk on his face. He wants to use her against me. He wants to hurt me even more than he already has.
Still, I wonder if there is the slightest truth in his words. Did he really protect her from his men? Is there a small part of him that does care about her?
More importantly, can I use that against him?
I have to take the chance, even if I’m going to regret this later. Turning around fast, I reach out, gripping Amara by the arm. She trips, coming out of her trance as I pull her body in front of mine. I place the barrel of the gun at her temple and wait for him to say something.
I can practically hear Amara’s heart beating out of her chest, her blood rushing through her veins. Does she think I would actually shoot her?
Looking past her shoulder, I catch sight of John with a huge smile on his face.
“You actually expect me to believe you would kill her? I know how you treated her while she was staying with you. You barely laid a hand on her. Now you’re threatening me with this?”
Fuck. Sweat forms on my brow. He is calling my bluff.
“I do,” I say, keeping my emotions hidden from my face. Pulling the gun away from Amara’s head, I slip it into the back of my pants, and I swear I can hear her sigh with relief. Little does she know, things are about to get ten times crazier. I just hope she will be able to hang on a little longer.
Pulling my knife from my belt, I get a good grip on it. I watch John’s eyes grow bigger than ever as I put the blade to her throat.
“Enzo, you don’t have to do this,” she whimpers. She is scared, and she has a reason to be. If her father doesn’t cooperate, I’ll have to hurt her.
“Now, tell me what it is I want to know,” I growl, ignoring Amara shaking in my hold. I have to do this.
“You won’t…” John jokes with a laugh stuck in his throat.
“I will,” I snarl as I grip the knife tighter and push it softly into Amara’s creamy white skin.
I can feel her pulse jumping underneath my fingers, smell her fear, and I have no way of telling her it will be okay.
“Kill her then.”
“Okay.” I shrug my shoulders and push the knife into her skin harder—praying to fucking God he is goading me.
Her small hand reaches up to push my hand away, but instead of stopping, I press the knife further into her skin. Until I can feel a small trickle of blood escaping down her neck.
“Stop!” she cries out. Her breaths turn into pants, and I hold my own until my lungs burn as she tries to wiggle out of my hold.
“Okay… Okay…” John finally pleads. Immediately, I pull the blade away and turn Amara around in my hold. My eyes skim over the cut before I turn my full attention back to John. I don’t dare look into her eyes right now, I’m not ready for what I know I’m going to see. That’s something to deal with later.
“Are we on the same page now, or do I need to do something else? When I said I took her as a form of payment, I meant I was taking her pussy to fuck it until it was useless. I didn’t say I was going to grow attached to it. I definitely didn’t say I would keep her the fuck alive.” The words coming from my mouth make me cringe on the inside, so I can’t imagine what is going through Amara’s mind.
“Killing her won’t get you the answers you want.”
“Maybe not, but killing her will make you see what it’s like to lose your last living relative. It will make you suffer the way you made me suffer.”
Releasing my hold on Amara, I push her away and swiftly pull out my gun again. I watch as she sinks to the floor while I move my gun to point it at her yet again. I only dare to glance at her face briefly, exhaustion and shock evident in her features. Come on. Stay