Beautiful Monster (Dark Lies Duet 2)

I poke my head out, and finally, the coast is clear again. I dart back and forth across the hall, from one doorway to the next, coming to a familiar set of stairs that leads down to the first-floor foyer. I'm almost out.

My head’s on a swivel as I run down the stairs. I don't hear voices or footsteps, so I dash for the front door and open it just enough to slip outside, then close it quietly.

I'm out. I'm out! It's exhilarating, just having the fresh air and sunlight on my skin. Only now, I have to figure out where to go. I'd rather die out here alone and starving than live another minute as a captive.

Yet I'm not ten feet from the house when the door opens, and someone shouts at me in Italian. Rather than freeze, I run, tearing across the front courtyard. Where am I trying to go? I have no idea. Away. That's all that matters. Away from here.

No such luck. A hand closes around my arm and yanks me hard enough that I nearly hit the ground. The guard catches me before I do and hauls me to my feet. He's still growling something in Italian as he starts to drag me back to the house.

“No!” I swing at him with my free arm, hitting his shoulder and his chest. He takes hold of that, too, and tears spring to my eyes when his fingers press into my flesh. I settle for kicking, yanking my arms until my shoulders scream in protest.

And through it all, I scream at the top of my lungs. “Stop it! Let me go! Take your hands off me!”

It's no use. He pulls me back to the house a little at a time, cursing me. “Get off, get off me, you son of a bitch!” He only gives me a hard tug, making me trip. I hit the ground on one knee and cry out in pain, but he's unsympathetic as he continues to drag me along.

“Hey!”

We both stop dead at the sound of the shout, as sharp as the crack of a whip. Christian is charging at us, fists clenched, his teeth bared in a snarl. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

“She tried to escape.” The guard is out of breath. “I caught her. I was only trying to get her back inside.”

Rather than thanking him, Christian pulls me out of his grip. “You think you can hurt her like that? Didn't you fucking hear her? Anyone could tell she was in pain, thanks to you.”

In a flash, he reaches into his waistband and withdraws a gun. I don't have time to gasp before he aims at the guard’s head and pulls the trigger.

My scream fills the air, loud enough to drown out the sound of his body hitting the ground. Blood immediately pools beneath what's left of his head. He was alive just a second ago, and now he's nothing but a mass of flesh lying on the ground, staring blankly up at the sky. All because he was doing his job.

“Do you see what you made me do?” Christian tucks the gun back into his pants, then takes my wrist in his hand. I'm frozen in shock and unable to pull away. “Remember this, Siân. Your life is safe with me. I won't kill you, but that doesn't mean your actions have no consequences. Insistence on having your way got this man killed. A good man, too. Think about that the next time you want to defy me.”

“Don't blame me for this!” His eyes widen, and it's good to know I can get through to him. “You decided to do that. You didn't have to!”

And now it's me he's baring his teeth at, but I'm not going to back down. He did say he wouldn't kill me, right? I believe him.

On the other hand, it's clear his emotions are all over the place now. Between the tension with his father and that tense phone call I overheard, he was clearly already under some kind of stress. Now he's walked up to a guard and killed him without blinking. Not the act of a man with his shit under control.

Maybe this isn't the man I need to challenge right now. Yet I still have to. I can't let him win.

“Get inside the house.” Danger runs through his voice like a current. “Now.”

“No. I won't. Why would I go anywhere with you? I don't want to be here. You don't own me.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, no?” He picks me up like he did at the cabin, lifting my feet off the ground and carrying me into the house. It doesn't matter how I scream. Nobody pays any attention.

It's when he doesn't head up the stairs that true, icy fear touches my heart. He's taking me somewhere else. Knowing that drains a lot of the fight out of me. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?” He doesn't answer. Instead, he marches past the foyer and opens a small door I hadn't noticed before now. He flips on the lights, revealing a stone staircase leading down to a dark basement where any number of things could be waiting. “Why are you doing this?” I might as well be talking to myself.