Page 21 of Overcast

My jaw tightens to keep unwanted tears from shedding because he might as well just slap me in the face again.

“Move,” I rumble, trying my best to ignore that he’s blood-thirsty for retribution, and I’m the main course.

“For what?”

“I need to tighten this blanket around my leg, or you and I won’t be having any sort of conversation at all.”

Nothing.

I don’t expect him to care, but I do, and I require it still attached to my body.

“Now.”

Emric’s lips slowly heave into a perilous smirk. “I knew you weren’t as innocent and sweet as you appeared to be.”

Without prying his gaze from me, he rips the sock off my foot and lets it float aimlessly in the air by the tip of his index finger.

Snatching it, I inhale a staggered breath, encouraging myself to do what I don’t want to do.

But this is life or death.

I have to play doctor or deal with the consequences if I keep chickening out.

Not giving myself another second to dwell on it, I shove the cotton sock over my wound. A sharp gasp followed by a groan hums in my chest as I apply pressure.

My captor—he doesn’t give me any space. A boulder that just continues to sit there like there is nothing more pressing to do.

“Not gonna be enough,” he voices nonchalantly. Not sure how he’d know because he hasn’t removed his attention from my face but, who the heck am I?

I’d love to tell him to leave so I can figure something else out, but we all know how well that’s not going to go. So I remain as quiet as a church mouse. When I don’t counter back with a response, he twirls the crimson caked weapon in front of me.

“What’s your favorite side?”

“What?”

“Side,” he repeats. “Of your face.”

I shake my head.

One, because I’m not going to respond to that.

Two, why would I answer that? Not only is this man deranged, but his futile questions don’t make any of this better.

“I like both,” he continues, moving the blade to my face.

I twist it to the side to keep any part of my body out of his reach. Away from anything sharp or that could inflict discomfort again.

The metal tip pokes my cheek then begins to sluggishly trail downwards. He doesn’t apply much pressure, but the distrust that I already have in place for him makes a vulnerable dread creep up my spine.

“You can do better than Hollis, sweetheart.” The blade halts beneath my chin and tilts my face upward, fully exposing my neck to him. All he needs to do is thrust, and my sock won’t be saving that wound. “I’m surprised.” Green eyes route down to assess the column of my throat than even lower. “He must have a big dick for you to be riding that fat fuck.”

I inwardly groan at the disgusting image of Hollis and any body part of his. If Emric knew half of the things I’ve had to deal with when it came to that vile man, he would be eating his words.

Granted, that’d be if he started listening to what I’ve been saying.

“How many times?” he asks me, his voice sounding deeper than before. I meet his eyes but don’t utter a peep. Instead, he does for me. “Do you think I can make you come?”

My cheeks are fire-engine-red. I’m sure they’d be hot to the touch because my whole face just ignited.

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