his thumb and forefinger. My heart thundered in my chest. Can he hear it? I wondered. It felt as though it was trying to gallop out of my chest. Sweat beads popped up on the back of my neck.
Yes, some women were aroused by Jaxson’s violence—and at one point, this dominance he exuded had filled something inside of me that I thought I’d needed—but as time had gone on, I’d begun to see his need to control me as an enemy rather than a safe haven. The only thing left inside of me for Jaxson was this fear—fear that he’d one day take it too far.
“You do what I tell you to,” his face loomed closer, “because I own you, Scarlett. I have something you want and to get it, you’ll follow my commands.”
Something I want? I thought to myself. Maybe that’d been true at some point, but not anymore. A warning in my head, however, kept me from voicing that. There was a hint of something dangerous in his eyes tonight. Something unhinged. I didn’t want to push it. Not now.
“Okay, Jaxson,” I said. “Whatever you say.”
He leaned forward until his lips were close to mine. As soon as they touched me, I wanted to shudder, hating the insistent rubbing against my mouth before he moved forward and pressed in harder, kissing me with a dominating heat that left me feeling nothing but ice in my veins. I let him, though, knowing this was no time to stop him. I just squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath as I kissed him back.
A shrill noise interrupted the moment and Jaxson pulled away with a scowl, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the burner. “What?” he barked into the receiver. The sound of the phone going off must have woken our captive, because a low moan came from the bed right before he started talking again.
“Hello?” he called out tentatively. “Are you there? I c-can hear you. Are you going to hurt me? I-I know my parents have money.” The kid paused and then sniffled. “P-please don’t kill me.”
I closed my eyes briefly, squeezing them until it hurt, before opening them as Jaxson stepped away from me. “You’re going to be fine,” I answered the kid. “Just don’t talk anymore. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Jaxson’s eyes heated with anger and I knew without a doubt that I’d get it for that later. His top rule for this job had been not to talk to the kid, but I couldn’t help it. He was scared. A teenager barely on the cusp of starting his life—it wasn’t his fucking fault that his parents were wealthy, well connected targets of people like Jaxson and me. Whatever Jaxon was about to say, however, was interrupted by the person on the other line. A smug smile of victory came across his face and that could only mean one thing. Payday.
“That’s it?” he asked, turning away. “They paid it? What’s the number—no not the phone number, you fucking idiot. The account number.”
As Jaxson headed back toward the table, snatching up a pen and paper, I moved toward the bed where the kid lay and leaned closer—as if I could offer him comfort from where I was. “It’s okay,” I told him quietly. “I promise. Just stay calm. Don’t try to fight back and you’ll be home with your family soon.”
“I-I’m scared,” the kid said. “Please. I-I don’t—”
I hushed him gently. “I know, sweetie.” In the background, I dimly heard Jaxson hang up and pick something up from the table. “It’ll be over soon.”
Thank God the kid’s parents had paid the ransom, I thought as I stood back up and turned toward Jaxson. I was only half turned when the sound of a quiet pop hit my ears and something wet slapped my arm. My body jerked to a halt, my lips parting in shock as I glanced down.
Red … all over my arm. All over the bed. The black bag that had been over the kid’s head had a neat hole in it and blood pooled beneath him. The shock hit me first. Then … sickness. I turned to the side and stumbled over my own two feet as I tried to reach for the little trashcan beneath the shitty box television set. My knees hit the floor two point five seconds before I vomited what little I had in my stomach into the plastic container.