He resembled a vampire—bloodthirsty with cold, dead eyes.
When I was a kid, vampires were the only classic horror monster I liked. It was the mystique with them. Gorgeous, charming killers that drained blood with sweet bites. Sometimes, the sensual bloodletting was an illusion. Other times, the slice of their teeth felt so sugary good, their victims plead for their deaths.
Regardless, the vampire usually killed them.
I’m not leaving this room alive. . .
Cain licked his bloody lips and groaned so loud, the sound drummed through to my bones.
“Fuck.” He dropped the knife.
My nerves calmed a little. But my body buzzed in those natural chemicals. I became high, intoxicated from it, more than I ever could from marijuana.
My mind went blank.
Slowly, I began to feel disconnected from myself. I could sense myself detaching. Floating away. Flying out of my body.
Fast, he blurred to me.
Maybe, he is a vampire.
With both hands, he palmed my breasts. “Do you see?”
I shivered amidst the aftershock of sensations.
“There can be pleasure with pain.” He pinched my bloody nipple.
Gasping, I let my head fall back. “Oh.”
“You’re going to be a lot of fun.” He toyed with the bloody nipple some more. “Maybe I will see about giving you more days.”
Desperate, I blurted out, “I-I’ll do anything, if you do.”
“You would do anything if I don’t.” He shifted to pinching both nipples.
I couldn’t fight him or my body’s reaction. And I hated his cockiness, yet truth lathered those cruel words.
He whispered in my ear, “There you go.”
More tears left me.
“Now, you’re finally understanding.” Cain kissed me.
His tongue tasted coppery from my blood.
He started with small, gentle kisses.
The whole time, he caressed my curves.
I shivered in pleasure.
And it was maddening that his lips were so soft and his tongue so skilled and his taste so fucking irresistible. It was embarrassing that pleasure exploded in my mouth and washed across my skin. It was wrong that I leaned into it, desperate for more bliss, more sensual delight, more kindness.
Then he shifted to deeper wet kisses. Tongue twisting ones. The type that ravaged me down to my soul.
Due to his mouth, I didn’t notice his hand moving.
Still kissing me, he stabbed my other thigh.
“Oh!” I cried into the kiss. Hot, burning pain rushed through me. Yet, this time it hurt so fucking good. Or maybe I was delirious. Out of it. Deranged from blood loss.
He left my mouth and gazed down at the wound. “So captivating.”
Now blood dripped down both of my legs.
He stood there in a daze, fixated with the long lines of blood running down to my toes and then dripping onto the floor.
I let out a shuddering breath. “H-How?”
He snapped his view to me. “How what?”
My lids felt heavy. I could feel myself weakening into nothing. “How do I save myself?”
“You know how, Phoenix.”
More tears left me. “Is there any other way?”
He moved his view back to the lines of blood. “You’re so fucking good. So responsive. I should give you the four days.”
I sniffled. “Please, Cain. Please. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’m certain you will.” He moved in closer barely leaving an inch between his mouth and mine. “Already, I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“T-then, you keep me for four days. . .and take me back to Glory.”
He studied me.
“I could. . .meet her at our spot. I’ll do. . .the exchange. . .at the time we’ve already set.”
“And I’ll be with you.”
“T-that’s fine.”
Quinn and I always met in Victory Park at twelve in the afternoon, right at the picnic tables near the bathrooms. Multi-tasking, she liked to check on the kids during the day and make sure there weren’t any problems with them.
If Cain and his brothers took me there, I could escape. I knew that deep within my soul. While I’d definitely give Cain his damn money, I would also have a fighting chance to get away from him.
Quin would know something was wrong if I walked up to her with them. The kids would too.
“Hmmm.” He left me and went back to the shelves. “That’s an interesting option.”
I tried to spin that way, but I could only push my toes against the floor. “Cain, please. We both get what we want.”
“I’m thinking about it.” He set the bloody chef knife on the shelf and picked up the scalpel. The tip glinted in the light. “Unfortunately, I’m not as focused as I thought I would be with this confessional.”
Confessional?
“I’m enjoying myself too much.”
I frowned. “If I’m dead, then you will never get the money.”
“That is a good point.” He carried the scalpel over to me, stared at my collarbone, and then gripped me hard with the other hand.
“Please, Cain.”
“Don’t move too much.” Without hesitation, he dug the scalpel’s tip into my shoulder and pierced the skin along my collarbone. This time it took longer. Stinging pain gnawed at my skin.