Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I jut my chin and look away. Is he thinking up my punishment? I may be safe for the moment, but when Enzo puts him back together, there’s going to be payback. I know that much.
“I’m going to pull it out,” Enzo says, wrapping his hand around the hilt of the letter opener. “Ready?”
“Do it.” Cassian grits his teeth. Enzo blocks my vision when he shifts his position to pull the makeshift dagger out. I see the moment he does it on Cassian’s face and there’s a part of me, the stupid part, that winces, feeling guilty or sorry or some bullshit he doesn’t deserve.
“Okay?” Enzo asks.
“Fine,” Cassian groans. He’s not fine.
“I need to clean it, but I’ll be able to glue it shut. Not gonna lie though, it’s going to hurt.”
Enzo begins to gather supplies. Cassian glances down at the spot and I follow his gaze. The letter opener wasn’t long, just about two inches maybe and half an inch wide, but it did some damage. Slowed him down a little. Hurt him.
Mostly, though, it pissed him off.
“Good,” Cassian tells Enzo, then shifts his gaze to meet mine. “It’ll be a good reminder. Do what you need to do.”
My heart begins to slow, my breath calmer now. My arms are falling asleep, though, as blood drains. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a huge antique mirror leaning against the far wall and see what that ripping sound was, my blouse. It’s hanging open, only the two bottom buttons somehow still in place. My pants are fine, but my shoes are gone. Lost in battle. My hair is a wild, dark mess around my head, but I raise my chin and I smile.
Looking at myself, it’s not a scared little girl I see. It’s not a good little victim. It’s the face of a fighter. A survivor. And that’s what I hold on to when I return my gaze to Cassian’s and lock eyes as Enzo cleans his wound. I hold his gaze and watch him grit his teeth and clench his jaw against the pain and in his eyes, I read his promise. His payback. It’s coming. He’ll make me pay for my rebellion. Will I lose another finger tonight? I feel a familiar panic building, but I force myself to breathe. To stay calm. I tell myself if I had the chance, I’d do it again, exactly the same. I’ll fight him every step of the way. If it’s a fighter he wanted, well, then lucky him, because I meant what I said. I will never again play good little victim.
4
CASSIAN
Twenty minutes later, Allegra is still bound to one of the posts at the foot of my bed as I walk out of the closet, pulling a fresh shirt on over my jeans. The sweats and T-shirt are ruined.
Her eyes follow me, jaw jutted out stubbornly as I make my way to where my phone still lies on the dresser. I pick it up, glancing at her hands, seeing where the missing finger should be. I text Angelo:
Me: I want to know everything about Allegra Moretti.
Angelo sends me a thumbs up emoji, and I set my phone aside before moving to stand before her, just close enough to make it uncomfortable.
Enzo comes back in after washing his hands. He glances at us.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Want me to take her to the crypt?” he asks.
Her face betrays her panic. She shifts wide eyes to Enzo momentarily before returning them to me.
I grin, turn to my cousin. He knows I don’t, but he’s fucking with her too. “Not yet. But maybe later.” That last part I say to her.
“You want something for the pain?” Enzo asks.
“No. I told you, it’s good for me to remember.” I brush a lock of hair behind her ear, and she jerks her face away. I wonder if she’s aware she’s biting her lower lip, a giveaway of her anxiety. She’s not as tough as she wants to appear. Understandable, considering.
“What about this?” he asks, tossing the letter opener up and catching it. He’s cleaned it at least.
“Leave it. I may need it,” I say with a pointed look to Allegra. “Lock that door though,” I tell him, gesturing to the door that adjoins mine. I won’t be putting her back there tonight.
He does. “All right. I’m going home. Call if you need me. I’ll check in on you in the morning,” Enzo says, setting the letter opener on the table across the room before he leaves.
“Cute little stunt,” I tell her once he’s gone.
She faces me. She’s tiny barefoot like this. “I’d say effective is the word you want to use.”
I grin. She’s tough. Good. This is going to be fun. “Effective if earning a punishment was your goal, sure.”
She tries to look defiant, but I hear her swallow.