Page 9 of Unholy Bonds

“You like to take your time, don’t you, Mr. Sinclair?” I whispered as he opened a leather tool bag and carefully rolled it out on the floor. I could see scalpels, thumbscrews, and also different kinds of knives—my body trembled.

I wanted him to use that knife on my body. My legs trembled. I thrust harder… needing more.

“Oh, Ryden. Fuck,” I screamed into the emptiness as I came.

Cum dripped down my thighs, warm on my cold skin. The orgasm was so much better than anything I ever had, and the man wasn’t even touching me. I wondered what it’d actually be like when he was touching me, when his fingers were the ones buried in me.

With a sigh, I pulled my dress down and settled back, readjusting my binoculars.

Ryden looked entirely too calm, his lips pressed together in concentration, his dark gray eyes broody and contemplating.

“What’s going on in your head right now, Ryden? I want to climb inside your head and eat your thoughts away.”

After a long pause, Ryden began to cut. A snip here, a slit there, until everything was so red, until Phil was crying and howling in pain.

Ryden smiled, shaking his head, whispering something. I loved the way he smiled. Carelessly calculating. Devil in one eye and angel in the other.

When he thrust the knife into Phil’s right eye, I was sure I heard the sound of the knife hitting against the back of Phil’s skull inside my skin.

He said something to Phil, but Phil was almost gone. Ryden knew it, too.

Cleaning up was boring. I pushed the binoculars inside my bag with a sigh. The clock on my phone showed it was closer to dawn. I had to get away before I got caught.

I quickly jogged toward my car. I’d parked it a few miles away to make sure he wouldn’t hear the sound. I was opening the door when I heard footsteps coming toward me.

Before I could enter the car, I heard the sound of the metal cutting through the air. I whirled around and caught the knife at the last second, my body reacting to the danger like I had taught it to. The sharp knife, carrying traces of blood, now rested in my palm like a quiet, obedient child.

I stepped toward my car, focusing on my breathing. Fear made people lose control.

Lose your control, lose your life.

I wasn’t afraid to die, but I didn’t want to die yet.

“STOP.” His voice was a loud growl. “Don’t fucking move, or I’ll kill you.”

5

REMINDERS

YARA

The venom in his voice sent shivers down my spine. But this wasn’t the time for such weakness, was it?

“Stop? Am I an idiot?” I shook my head, using my other voice. He took in a sharp breath, cursing as he did.

When I was young, my father forced me to take vocal and singing lessons. I had to do it for years under the guidance of a special vocal coach—he paid her an obnoxious amount for that. It wasn’t really about singing. It was about maintaining the facade of a good father. Oh, and also because he was fucking her.

“FUCK. It’s you. From the pub. What the fuck are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Sinclair.”

I wiped the knife against my dress, ensuring every trace of my fingerprints was gone. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I had been perfecting this routine for too long, perhaps even longer than him, to make such a rookie mistake.

“Yes, I was quite surprised to find you here,” I said before sending the knife back toward him. He sidestepped at the very last moment, and the knife fell to the road with a harmless clink. “Don’t leave your DNA behind. That’ll be bad,” I said, quickly getting into my car and driving away.

I could see him in the rear-view mirror as he stared at me, eyes flashing with thunder. In the black Tyvek and against the gray skies, he looked like the grim reaper waiting to collect souls.

“So fucking tempting.”

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