Page 28 of Darkest Deeds
Stripping off my jeans and bra, I push the memories away and settle onto the couch with my blanket and a Friends rerun. Too wound up to sleep, I dive into the wine, and before I know it, I’ve plowed through the rest of the bottle in less than an hour. I tell myself it’s Ethan who drove me to drink, but if I’m honest with myself, I know what triggered me.
Or who.
Niko’s presence complicates an already impossible situation. I told Ethan I could take care of myself, but I’m not so sure. We’re all playing a very dangerous game, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m in over my head. I can handle Ethan alone, but this darkened version of Niko brings me to my knees in an unholy trinity of fear, insanity, and lust.
“Fuck ’em.” I shift on the couch, and the heavy wine bottle clatters to the floor. I don’t bother picking it up because rolling toward the edge of the couch cushion seems too much like teetering on the ledge to hell.
The dark, cold hell three floors down wrapped in plastic and secrets.
As my eyes become heavy, I drag myself from a distant haunting memory into a fresh one that shakes me to my core.
“One more thing.I said I didn’t want your pussy. I don’t. Today. But eventually, you’ll give that to me too, pchelka. After all, a promise is a promise.”
A promise.One he knows I can’t deliver. However, with a man like Niko, I have no doubt he’ll find a way to collect and send us both to hell. I just hope the payment doesn’t match the sin.
They say three can keep a secret if two of them are dead.
I guess we’ll find out.
* * *
The minuteI open my eyes, I know something isn’t right. It’s subtle—a scattering of goosebumps, an involuntary inhale, a delicate shift in the balance of power—but whatever it is, it’s gone in the blink of an eye.
Not because it’s over.
But because it’s just beginning.
I sit up and scream, but a gloved hand swings around from behind and silences me. Panicking, I claw at the hand covering my mouth, but the intruder is stronger. With little effort, his other arm traps both of mine around my waist and jerks me up and over the edge of the couch.
Lightheaded and immobile, I sag against his hard chest as my lungs scream for air. Without warning, I’m flung backward, my skull slamming against the floor with a hard thud. My head throbs, but now that I can breathe, I refuse to give up without a fight.
Think, Ava. You’re on the floor. What’s near you?
The wine bottle.
As I reach for the neck, a boot steps on my hand, pinning it to the floor. Pain shoots through my fingers, and I let out a tortured wail.
“Nice try,” a deep male voice says. “But I wouldn’t play with fire if I were you.”
Years of keeping one eye open. Years of looking over my shoulder. Years of fighting to keep my head above water. All three have come down to one unguarded moment. Hatred swells in my chest. “Fuck you!”
Immediately, I regret my outburst because as the boot disappears, two knees drop on either side of me. I scream again, twisting and clawing with both hands, but he’s twice my size. The moment he straddles me, my short T-shirt rides up to my waist, and I’m terrified. The kind of terror that steals a person’s ability to think or speak. All I can do is blink because I’m convinced they’ve realized what I’ve done.
Sweat rolls down my temple as he pins my hands above my head. It’s too dark to see his face, but I can feel his growing hardness against my stomach. I hold my breath and hear his change to rough pants—unsteady and carnal. A wave of sickness washes over me.
I’d rather die.
“Kill me,” I beg. “But please don’t rape me.”
His laugh is cruel. “Relax, Ava. I’m after something more valuable than your pussy.”
I shouldn’t ask. Everything in me tells me not to ask. But I do it anyway. “What?”
Lowering his head, he whispers in my ear, “I already told you. I want your fear.”
I gasp.
That’s it. One gasp.