Page 131 of Sin Like the Devil

“By the time Raine wakes up, you’ll be gone.” Lennox tightens his arm to crush my windpipe. “And there will be no one left to fuck up his life. He’ll be safe.”

Dragging my nails down his exposed arms, I desperately search for an opening. Even the tiniest weakness. He doesn’t flinch at the blood welling beneath my fingers to paint his skin.

The tight, strangling pressure of his headlock is constant. I’m going to pass out. What will he do to me? Panic sets in along with cold, hard survival instinct.

I’m kicking. Writhing. Scratching. Anything to secure the oxygen that my lungs are begging for. But Lennox won’t let me escape. Not this time. He’s found his moment and won’t surrender me again.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Shut your eyes.”

Everything is growing heavy. Limbs filling with lead and blood flow decreasing. My head feels like a balloon set to burst. I can’t stop my eyes from falling shut as nothingness permeates my vision.

His voice is the last thing I hear.

“I’m sorry, Rip.”

CHAPTER 21

RIPLEY

CHOKEHOLD – SLEEP TOKEN

With the sound of Xander’s shower running, I finally wriggle out of the wrist restraints that have rubbed my skin raw. I can reach down my body to my ankles now. I’m tied with some kind of thin, flexible nylon rope. Fuck knows how he sourced it in here.

My limbs are like liquified jelly. I’m not sure how they’re even still attached after the past few hours. Fumbling with the rope, I’m trembling too hard to even attempt unfastening the expertly tied knots. Xander left nothing to chance.

The glint of black steel catches my eye. He discarded the folding pocketknife once he’d licked my blood from its blade, his tongue an inch away from being sliced open. I was fascinated, watching that twisted display. And fucking soaked too.

Straining as hard as I can, my fingertips brush against its curved handle. I manage to seize the knife then quickly set to work slashing the rope from my ankles. It’s tough and doesn’t cut easily.

Once the restraints have given way, I try to stand up but crumple instead. I’m weaker than a newborn baby. The ordeal he put my body through, equal parts pain and pleasure, has left me exhausted beyond measure.

Wincing at the sting of bruises across my skin, I can’t find the clothes I wore when I nervously tiptoed over here, too curious for my own good. I wanted to know if he would live up to his threats. If I could survive a night in Xander Beck’s bed.

Snagging a t-shirt that smells like him—spearmint and something darker, somehow more primal—I quickly dress. My panties are peeking out from beneath the bed. That’ll have to do.

I flee before his shower is finished. My mind needs time to process what we just did together. The lines we crossed. His confusing blend of sick fascination for pain and attentiveness for my pleasure. The scarred iceman hides many perplexing secrets.

Those scars weigh on my mind as I creep back to my room. They were everywhere. Littered all over his arms, biceps, stomach, thighs. Not an inch of skin was untouched. And neat, regimented lines too. Some deeper than others. But so clearly self-inflicted.

What internal pain does Xander have that’s so great, he has to expel it on to himself? And at what point did that blade stop serving its purpose, and he switched to hurting others instead?

Reaching my door, I realise I don’t have a keycard to unlock it. I left it tucked inside my sweats, still lost somewhere in Xander’s room. I’m not brave enough to return yet.

Instead, I head for Holly’s door. She has a fancy, all-access pass, courtesy of her perks. I can’t tell her where I’ve been. I’ll have to find an excuse.

If she knew I’d slept with Xander, she would blow a gasket. But as I lift my arm to knock on her door, my silent plotting halts. Realising that it’s ajar, unease swarms in my chest.

For the year that I’ve known her, Holly has always been paranoid about her privacy. She would never leave her door unlocked. Licking my lips, I gently knock on the door frame.

“Hol? You in here?”

Silence answers me.

“I’m coming in.”

My state of undress long forgotten, I creep inside. Light emanates from a lamp deeper in the room. It’s as neat and organised as ever. She’s particular about her space. But then the broken light on the ceiling with knotted bed sheets looped through the exposed fixture draws my attention.

I look lower.

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