He did, forcing me to spread my legs as his fingers brushed the outside of my thighs, bare in my sleep shorts. I ignored the goosebumps that spread over my skin.
Bringing the blade up slowly, I felt his chest start to rise and cave with shallow breaths, and I damn near smiled, because, if even just a little, he was nervous.
Finding the position with my thumb, I put the blade to his skin and pressed, increasing the pressure just a little more than I should have and feeling him suck in a breath.
It was his turn to be scared.
I let it sit there for a moment, feeling the air grow thick between us as he waited for what I was going to do with the blade pressed to his neck. Were his eyes cast down on me, watching me? Was he waiting for it? Was he ready for it?
I held it there for another moment and then…glided the blade up his neck, shaving it.
He held his breath for a moment and then exhaled softly as the blade left his neck.
Running my fingers over the strip I just shaved, I felt smooth skin. Skin I’d had my lips on when I’d thought he was someone else.
Rinsing off the blade, I took his face again, shoving it back to where I had it, because he’d dropped it again—probably to watch me.
He stood there silently as I slowly dragged the blade up his throat, the grainy sound filling the room and everything in the distance fading away. My hand shook with the knowledge that at any moment I could cut him.
Deep.
He would deserve it. After what he did to me…
After being everything I craved and needed, he made me fall in love with him, but come to find out, I’d fallen for a lie. A boy who treated me badly and found out how easy it was to hide right under my nose and get me to fuck him. Did he laugh about it after with his friends? Did he have fun?
My eyes pooled with tears as I shaved another strip, the tension in my hand making it ache as I gripped the razor so tightly.
How could he lie like that? The way he was… The words, the kissing, the shower, the way he held me and acted so sad sometimes, the desperation in his body when he took mine over and we were lost in the heat and the need to feel each other.... How could he lie so well? Young girls weren’t hard-hearted. He had to know how easily I would fall. Did he think it would be funny when he got my hopes up and played with me like that? Did he laugh at how pathetic the little blind girl was to think he loved her?
He sucked in a short breath, and I stopped, my tears threatening to spill over as I realized I’d cut him.
He didn’t say anything, though, and he didn’t move. I sat there, my hand in mid-air under his chin as I waited. I actually hadn’t meant to do that. Was it bad?
I heard him swallow and then he said, “Keep going.” But it came out as a whisper.
I blinked away the tears and loosened my grip, trying to relax.
“What’s all the noise downstairs?” I asked him.
“Extra security.”
“To keep me locked in?”
“To keep you safe,” he corrected in a coy tone.
I was sure the disdain was visible on my face. But then I remembered how he denied being in the theater bathroom and Crane denied that anyone was in the house this morning when I ran to St. Killian’s. They had no reason to lie. Was I in more danger than I thought? Was someone else after me? Enemies my father made or something?
I quieted, almost afraid of his answer when I asked, “Is my family really in the Maldives?”
“Yes,” he said.
Pain pricked at the back of my throat.
And while it was unusual my mother was on his honeymoon and not him, I knew why. He had no interest in the Maldives. Everything that interested him was here.
“Why would my mother leave me with you?”
“Because she’s a cunt.”