Page 60 of Corrupted Heart

Suddenly, as if my question had been asked out loud, I get my response in the form of two glowing X’s and a leering, neon smile illuminating the darkness up where the throne was before.

My pulse skips. My throat tightens around my windpipe as a spike of something vicious and heated stabs through my chest.

The church is still utterly silent. But slowly, the glowing mask tilts eerily to the side. Something glints; a second later, I realize it’s a blade. A huge hunting knife, twisting slowly in his hand with the neon of his mask bouncing off its lethal edge.

You crossed a line, babygirl. So now I’m going to eradicate yours.

My entire chest constricts. My face caves, and whatever deranged excitement I felt before shatters like glass into pure fear.

“What the fuck is this?” I whisper in a choked, hoarse voice.

The mask tilts to the other side, leering at a creepy angle.

“This is what you signed up for…Bianca,” Kratos growls quietly. The rough, whiskey-and-leather timbre of his voice rumbles through the echoing old space. In here, it almost sounds like stone grating against stone.

“I’d say this is your last chance to walk away…”

He utters a rough, rasping, mirthless chuckle.

“…But we’re well past that now, aren’t we?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. My heart flip-flops as the mask rises when he stands from his throne hidden in the dark. The mask moves nearer to me, like he’s stepping over the rubble and the broken old pews, coming closer. And closer.

“The time to run away from this is long past, princess.”

My chest tightens, a cold shiver jerking my spine upright as he leers down into my face.

“But the time to run from me is right the fuck now.”

“I—” My eyes are wide as I stare up into the twin neon X’s. “It was an accident. The car…”

“I’m sure,” he growls.

Another cold shiver ripples through me as the knife glints in his hands. For a second, I consider that I might be even further past my depth with all of this. The last time I was here, I knew it was a game. A terrifying, demented, twisted game, but a game nonetheless.

This time, I’m not so sure we’re playing anymore. And I don’t know if this is meant to be something sexual at all, even if I am, shamefully, excited.

This time, he might not want to chase me so that he can rip my clothes and fuck me.

It might simply be that he wants to rip my throat.

“Do you know what you destroyed?”

My lip retreats between my teeth.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Not yet, you’re not. But you will be.”

I swallow again. “The car?—”

“It wasn’t just the car, princess,” he hisses.

“I…” I tremble as he raises the knife again, twirling it thoughtfully in front of his face. “I’ll pay?—”

“Fucking right you will.”

I gasp sharply as he brings the blade down to the front of my hoodie. He uses the razor-sharp tip to pull the neck down a bit, before running the knife down my sternum, letting it tease down between my breasts before he drags it to the side. My breath catches and a low pulse throbs in my core as the jagged tip of the blade drags over the hoodie, across my left breast, dancing right across my nipple.

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