Page 27 of Seductive Sadist
I could really do it. I could leave here and never come back. Leave my bloody robe, bra, and panties somewhere where they’d be found. Maybe near the water. I’d be presumed dead. Drowned. It’d destroy my parents, but at least they’d be safe from the Van Dynes, since there’s no other daughter to marry off. They’d be broke, but I know my dad could claw his way out from that. He built his business from nothing. He wouldn’t need Van Dyne.
He doesn’t need him now. He’s taking the cowardly way out of his bad decisions by putting my life on the line.
I have to escape. This is my only chance. Thank God Dr. K had the pair of scissors in his bag and that I was able to swipe them without him catching me.
My feet pound against the front steps, the soles of my UGGs skidding in my haste to get the hell away from Zak. I grab on to the railing, gripping it tight as I slide down the length of it until I land on flat ground. I suck in a breath and run as hard as I can, my calf muscles tense and tight. I stumble over bits of gravel in my path, the balmy breeze whispering through the silky material of my robe. The sides fall open, beads of sweat popping up on my skin. My hair clings to the back of my neck, sweat drizzling down the sides of my face.
Nik’s house is set at the end of a private road, so there are no cars around and no other people. Just a lot of trees and shrubs around the perimeter. With the sun setting on the horizon, I have an advantage. Dusk falls around me, the impending darkness my only possible salvation right now.
Laney’s smiling face flashes in front of my eyes, blurred by my tears.
Is this how she felt that night at the club years ago? Panic and fear choking her because of a dangerous threat hovering over her like an ominous cloud?
All she could do was run. Just like I am now, running for my life.
I push myself to move faster. All have to do is get to the tree line, and then I can disappear forever.
“We have to leave.”
A sob rises in my chest, tears now streaming down my face as Laney’s voice echoes in my memories.
“Please. Don’t ask any more questions, okay? We need to get away from here.”
I choke out a cry, my shoulders quaking when I remember how she pulled me out of the club, thinking she could get to safety. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry!”
I jab my toe into a rock in my path and stumble forward. Pain assaults my injured arm, shooting down to my fingertips. Clutching my wrapped wound, I prepare to go down hard. A strong arm loops around my waist, stopping me from face-planting in the dirt and rock.
With a sharp rush of air from my lungs, my body slams backward into a hard wall of muscle.
I gasp and pant, digging my nails into his skin. I pull the hair on his arms, screaming and kicking my legs backward in an attempt to sweep them out from under him.
But nothing rattles the Devil.
He holds me tighter and holy shit… is that his—?
My pulse hammers hard.
Jesus, it is.
“Did you think a little prick was gonna stop me from catching you, Skyla?”
His voice is eerily calm, the vibration humming against the shell of my ear.
“A little prick for the biggest prick on the planet,” I seethe. “I’d hoped you would bleed out.”
“You didn’t want me dead.” His teeth clamp down hard on my earlobe. I squeal, my heart shuddering.
Then he moves his hand to my wound and wraps his fingers tight around the dressed area.
A bloodcurdling scream shatters my eardrums, and I can only hope it does the same to him. “You sick fuck. He just stitched me up!”
“Did that hurt, baby girl? I fucking hope it did. I hope your arm is throbbing and that the ache is too much for you to bear. And I want you to remember it, too, because once I’m finished with you tonight, you’re gonna experience pain at a whole new level.” He releases my arm and fists my hair, dragging my head backward so my cheek is flush against his lips. “I told you I would break you. And after what you just did… Fuck, I want to destroy you.”
“What got your dick in such a twist?” I sneer, a total glutton for his punishment with every word that tumbles from my lips. But screw him if he thinks I’m going to cower. “Was it that I got one over on you or that I ran away from you? Because you’re a god, right? Nobody runs from the great Zak Malikov.”
Sarcasm drips from my words, my face screwed up like I’ve just taken a gulp of year-old milk.
He flips me around so I can see his impassive expression. But his eyes give it all away. They’re fierce, wild, and blaze with fury. “You’re right. Nobody runs. Maybe you’re not as smart as you think.”