“Do you need something, Apollonia?” he asks and takes a step out of his office.
“A knife?” I smirk. He only smirks back.
I hate how sexy it is. What is this attraction I have for this man? “I guess I’ll check the kitchen.” I drop my eyes dismissively. If he has nothing for me, I’ll find it myself.
“I’ve got one.” He moves closer, his steps as silent as a predator’s in a dark jungle.
Of course he does. He’s all too eager to please. He wants to please me. How have you gotten so far, Cato? You’re showing all your cards. I already have you in the palm of my hand.
He reaches behind him and pulls a knife out. The same as Carter would do. He flips it and comes toward me, offering me the handle. “Careful, it’s sharp.” His eyes still hold the same challenge I know resides in mine.
I take the blade. I hate that he surprises me with his response.
“Anything else I can do for you, little lioness?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say ‘’die.’’ Instead I bite the inside of my lip. His eyes drop there. I inwardly smile. Another small win for me.
“Thank you.” I give a small glare before turning and going back up the stairs. I tighten my hand around the end of the knife. I still can’t believe he so easily gave it to me. He’s not scared of me. He’s a cocky asshole, that’s why.
He does also know he has me over a barrel, though. I can’t just walk up and stab him. It would mean my death. But he knows that’s not his trump card. It’s little Carter. I’m not going anywhere without him. Death would be the only thing that could keep me from that boy.
I failed my brother, but I will not fail his son. I walk into my bedroom. At least I’m guessing it’s my room. I kick the door closed behind me and fall against it. I open my hand and look down at the knife, then the scar on my palm.
It’s from the time I’d grabbed Carter’s knife right off his desk in his room. I learned quickly that day how sharp a knife could really be. He loved knives. I never saw someone handle one like him. The day I got this scar was the same day that Carter made me learn how to use one. He had taped up my hand, then schooled me in the art of blades.
He could throw a knife and hit anything. To this day, I’ve never seen anything like it. I laugh thinking about how badly I wanted to do it, too. To impress him. The first of my throws had been a mile off the target. Carter didn't laugh. He retrieved the knife and handed it to me again. Making me repeat the same thing over and over again. I was twenty throws in and hadn’t gotten any better.
‘You going to quit?’ he’d asked.
“Never.”
I’d thrown that knife until I couldn't lift my arm. I still sucked. But I never quit. I flip the knife up in my hand and catch it. Test the weight. It’s been years. But my brother always said it was like riding a bike. Once you got it down, you never forgot it. I toss it again. I should have known when Cato pulled it from himself it would be a good blade. I toss it again and again. Over and over.
Cato isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. He wants me. It might only be for a fuck, but he wants me I’m some sort of a challenge to him. Maybe he’s tired of the easy women who fall on their backs with their legs open for him. That mental image smarts, though it shouldn’t. He’s my enemy, after all.
I’ll use his desire for me against him. He’s brought me into his home. Dropped me right in the center of his world. The man who thinks the only way to hurt someone is physically.
He’s wrong, though. The worst pain comes from the heart, and I plan on taking Cato’s. I’ll burn his world down from the inside.
I toss the knife up again and catch it before I flip it across the room. The blade pierces the headboard dead center.
I’m going to make Cato fall in love with me. Then I’m going to take it all away from him. The same way he’s taken everything I loved away from me.