Page 6 of Corrupted

For that, I was grateful. When he found me in the basement, I thought he'd kill me. After what Kurt said about the relationship between our families having soured, I expected nothing less. At the time, I didn't care. I wanted to die.

Now, all I wanted to do was live.

"We should tell him all of this," I said.

"So, I've been helpful?" Leon looked hopeful once more. "I don't know what more there is to tell you."

"You'll think of something," Gianni said. He pulled out his phone and smiled.

"No, please, I swear I'll—" Leon's pleas were drowned out by the sound of the music flooding the room again.

"Enjoy!" Gianni shouted. He took my hand and we stepped out of the room before the sound became overwhelming.

I sighed in relief as the door closed behind us, blocking off the noise.

"You're not feeling sorry for him?" Gianni asked.

I snorted. "Fuck no. I'm just glad it's not me."

"Would you prefer to kill him?" Gianni waved back toward the door.

"I think I'll savour the idea for a few days," I said. "I've waited this long to feel his blood on my hands. I can wait a little while longer."

He groaned. "Fuck, that's hot. Probably for the best too. I suspect he'll remember some more important information if he tries hard enough."

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, suddenly shy. "You mentioned you like… Knives?"

Gianni's hand in mine, we slipped upstairs to the room designated as mine. I hadn't actually slept in it, but my things were here, rather than cluttering Reuben's space.

"So, knives, you say?" Gianni stepped inside and let me close the door behind us. He was letting me take the lead in this, every step of the way.

"I do say." I stopped short of engaging the lock. Closed doors were one thing, as was locking the world out of the house. Being inside a locked room was another. Even if it was locked from the inside.

"I don't want to—" I stopped a metre or so from the door, uncertainty seeping in.

"Whatever you want to do, sweetheart. I'm here for it. If you've changed your mind, and just want to talk, that's okay. Or if you'd prefer me to leave?" He stepped toward the door, but I put out a hand to stop him.

"No, don't leave. Please. I want…this. Us. You." So eloquent, but it was all I could manage right now.

I crouched down in front of my suitcase and pulled out a jumper. The black garment was wrapped around one of my favourite knives. The one I'd used the most often to kill.

If blades absorbed blood, it would have been soaked.

"She's beautiful." Gianni crouched beside me and looked admiringly at the cold steel. "Beautiful and deadly, just like you." He leaned over and kissed me.

I kissed him back before finding myself placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back onto the cool, hardwood floor. I straddled him and pressed the knife to his throat.

His eyes widened, but he smiled. "Hello there."

I smiled back. I could have taken his life then and there, but he knew I wouldn't. He trusted me completely to hold a sharp blade to his throat and not drive it into his vein, or slice him open.

Would I trust anyone else to do the same? Didn't know, but this was both gratifying and arousing.

With my spare hand, I pushed up his t-shirt, only lifting the knife to push the fabric up over his head.

His upper body bare, I was free to run the tip of the knife over his rock hard skin. Light, so I didn't break it, not yet.

He half closed his eyes and smiled. "Fuck, that feels good."