Trapped by Lies (Truth or Lies 3)

I pull the knife back and slice across Milo’s cheek, needing to cause him some pain for thinking he could buy me like property. And then I fling the knife with everything I can toward the driver. Hoping to God it hits him hard enough for him to lose control of the vehicle. And then I launch myself at him.

The car lurches as I hoped. The knife lands in his shoulder, and he gasps as my body flings over to him. I grab for the wheel, pulling hard to the right as the car starts spinning.

Yes! This could work!

And then I feel the hands. One pair grabs one arm while another pair grabs the other, pulling me off the man and shoving me into the back seat.

The driver regains control, as the man in the passenger seat pulls the knife out of his back.

The driver curses as the knife is jerked free. Obviously, he isn’t as used to dealing with pain as Milo or me.

Milo shoves me down onto the seat, forcing my arms over my head, as his body crushes me down into the black leather.

He’s sweating, and a thin line of blood scars his cheek. It may not have caused much damage, but the scar will remain for the rest of his life. A constant reminder on his face of me, at least until I find a way to kill him.

“You okay, Vito?” Milo asks, not taking his heated eyes off of me to check on his driver.

“Yes, it just hurts like a motherfucker,” Vito answers.

I don’t look away from Milo, but I’m sure Vito is giving me an evil glare.

“Don’t worry, Vito; I’ll make sure she pays for her crimes.”

Milo pulls another knife from his pocket and pushes it against my neck in the same way I did to him earlier.

I hold my breath, trying to remain as still as possible, but I don’t let the fear in. I won’t. He doesn’t deserve my fear.

“How far are we from the yacht?” Milo asks his driver.

“Five minutes.”

Five minutes, that’s nothing. Once I’m on that yacht, I’ll have no hope of getting off. And have no hope of hiding my fear.

“Do it. Slice my pretty neck. I deserve it,” I taunt him.

He grins, pushing his weight further into my chest until I can barely breathe. His cock sinks between my legs, and it takes everything inside me not to try and pull away in disgust.

“Do it,” I say again. My eyes glaze with a fire to have control over this man. Even if it’s just to get him to hurt me, he’ll hurt me because of what I did, and what I said. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be yelling into his phone. I have control.

“With pleasure,” Milo says.

The knife presses hard against my throat, and I feel the warmth of my blood trickling down my cool neck.

He won’t kill me. I know that much. He needs me alive to torture me later. Even though a part of me wishes he would kill me and put an end to this.

Everything starts to move in slow motion.

The knife slices deeper, until I can’t contain the pain. I grit my teeth to try to keep it in, but the pain is unexpected. Maybe he is trying to kill me?

The car is spinning the next second. Milo flies from my body, slamming into the back of the driver’s seat.

Vito grips the wheel hard, trying to regain control, but we keep whirling.

I grab my neck and feel the blood soaking my hand as my body grows colder.

Glass shatters.

And then everything stops.