Page 17 of Madness

“I can be nice.” I smiled at her. “Always. I enjoy watching things squirm.”

Kincaid shifted in her seat as if she’d just realized she was the new thing I was trying to make squirm. “Why are you afraid to admit you like pain?”

“I said I-“

“That’s two.” She huffed out a breath and crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up. They were practically spilling over the top of her shirt, teasing me with all that creamy skin. I wanted to leave my mark on them as much as I wanted to hear her moan as I took them into my mouth. I didn’t normally care about giving pleasure. But Kincaid’s moans were still ringing in my ears. I wanted to hear them again.

“Every minute you don’t answer, I’ll add another one.” The time ticked down as she glared at me. I wanted her to fight. The more she fought, the more I could use it against her. “That’s three. Keep going. I’m going to love seeing your skin red from my hand.” She stayed silent. “Four. Now it’s every second you don’t answer; I’ll add another.”

“You can’t keep changing the rules.” She shouted as she jerked in her chair.

“Five. And I can do anything I want. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” I smiled at her and waited another beat. “Six… Seven.”

“Fine!” Kincaid dropped her hands into her lap. She twisted them together as she looked away from me.

“I had a boyfriend.” The jealousy lit in my gut again. “When I told him about my… fantasies, he called me disgusting. He said there was something wrong with me. That I was a freak. A slut. Then he told all his friends, and for months afterwards, I had to listen to their degrading taunts. They sent me rape porn and posted my phone number and email to hookup sites. They pretended to be me and described what I’d told them. So strangers could continue their torture.”

A single tear gathered behind her wintery eyes. It fell from her lashes, making a track down her porcelain skin. A wet streak on her light freckles. I was mesmerized by it. By its path down her gorgeous face.

I couldn’t figure out why.

11

Kincaid

Icould feel the thick silence pressing down on my skin. He was the one who wanted to play this game, and now he had nothing to say. No snarky comments or crude statements. I could hear my heart beating in my ears as I waited for his reaction. He’d been still since I started talking. His dark emotionless eyes locked with mine. He finally broke the silence.

“Name.” His tone lowered, and a shiver of fear raced down my spine.

“W-why?” I stammered.

“Because I’m going to end their lives. But first, I’m going to dig out their secrets. I’m going to display them for the world to see.” Venom dripped from his voice. “I’m going to watch while their pathetic existence implodes around them. I want them to beg me to fix it. To let them live. I won’t. Then when they think they have nothing left to lose when they want death. I’m going to kill them slowly. I’ll run a knife between their ribs and watch as the blood leaves their body.”

What the fuck?

I knew Maddox was a monster. I’d seen it the first time I met him. But this was beyond what I imagined. He talked about killing my ex and his friends like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it was as simple as taking out the trash.

Maybe it was to him. But it wasn’t to me. I hated them, but I didn’t want them dead. I didn’t want to live with that hanging over my head.

“I don’t want you to do that.” I said. I was surprised there was no fear in my voice. “Tell me that you won’t.”

I should be shaking in fear. Adrenaline should have been coursing through my blood, telling me to run, but I didn’t feel afraid. My heart was beating fast, and my chest rose with each deep breath. But there was something else. My skin felt hot and something slick pooled between my thighs.

Oh god. I was turned on. His sick, sadistic rant had turned me on. My ex was right. I am disgusting. Who gets turned on when someone threatens to kill for them?

Why would he want to kill for me? I was nothing to him. He called me a toy. Maybe he just liked killing, and he’d find any excuse to do it.

Maddox tilted his head as he looked at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. He wasn’t going to find the answer from me because even I didn’t know who I was anymore. I wasn’t this girl. The girl who likes pain. Who gets pleasure from it. Who didn’t run when a psycho talked about murder.

Instead of pressing further like I thought he would, he sipped his drink. I watched his throat as he swallowed. Even his neck was muscular. He didn’t have the kind of scary muscles like his guard outside. His were softer but no less lethal. His muscles were lean instead of bulky. They matched his striking face.

Of course, he was good looking because demons always were. It was the handsome men you had to be afraid of. It lured you in, hiding what was underneath until it was too late. He licked a drop of whiskey off his lip. My eyes tracked his tongue. His tongue that had been on my body. The one I wanted to touch me again.

I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He commanded everything, and his kiss probably wouldn’t be any different. Letting him take control might be nice. It would be nice to not have to worry about anything for once. To forget the mountain of bills and the fear that came with them.

Wait? No. I had to stay in control. Someone like Maddox would kill me. Literally.

“It’s your turn to ask a question, little dove.” He smiled like he knew what I had been thinking. It didn’t escape my notice that he ignored my plea not to kill my ex.