I have never been a big fan of torture, at least not physical torture. If I was honest with myself, poisoning could be considered torture since its death is slow and agonizing. But Noah is known for mutilating people until they are unrecognizable. He knows how far he can go to have someone dance on the verge of death but not actually fall off that edge. I suck my lower lip between my teeth, nervously nibbling at the flesh, tasting the bitter flavor of my lipstick on the tip of my tongue. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to see what he's capable of.

"Go for it." I flash him a small smile and nod my head.

"You're the best," he says, planting a fleeting kiss on my lips. I chase the taste of his warm lips against mine, but he pulls away, his attention now on the black case. "How about we start with a fan favorite?" Noah lifts one of his pocket knives, flicks his wrist, and the blade pops out.

"No!" Mr. Williams cries, and I take a step back when I see Noah's shoulders tense before he breathes out a heavy sigh, and his shoulders relax again.

"I was not talking to you," Noah says, his voice low, steady, and dangerous. He uses the knife to cut a piece of fabric from the sheets and stalks over to Mr. Williams. He balls up the piece of fabric and shoves it into the man's mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut to avoid the scene in front of me where Noah continues to force the ball deeper into Mr. Williams’s mouth, who begins to choke on the fabric, rocking back and forth in his chair, trying to escape. I fold my arms over my chest, clutching the fabric of my dress.

I open my eyes again when the noises die down and find Noah pulling off his suit jacket and holding it out to me, but he’s not looking at me; his focus remains on Mr. Williams, who is looking at him with tears in his eyes. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Put it on."

"Why?" I ask, raising my eyebrows, but I take the jacket from him anyway and slip my arms through the oversized sleeves. The soothing scent of his cologne and cigarette surrounds me.

"We don't want your beautiful dress to get dirty, do we?"

"No," I say, hugging the jacket tightly and taking a few steps back to put more distance between us. I remain silent, keeping my distance as he rips the man's clothes from his body. Mr. Williams' chest heaves raggedly, his eyes wide with fear.

"Hah!" Noah barks, bursting into laughter. I take a step to the side to look around him and see what got him so excited. My eyes widen, and I flinch at the sight of Mr. Williams, completely naked with a hard-on between his legs. "Does this turn you on, you sick fuck? Or are you thinking about my dove?" He looms over Mr. Williams. "Are you thinking about how good she would feel around your old, shriveled cock?" Noah presses his forehead against Mr. Williams’s, his eyes popping like a madman. "But I have to disappoint you; she belongs to me, every inch of her. She was made to bounce on my cock only, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else even think about touching her."

From the first time Noah rams the knife into Mr. Williams, the man I've been falling for is gone. He loses himself in the primal urge to mess with his prey before actually killing it.

A lump forms in my throat as more blood gushes from the man's body. I take several steps to increase the distance, flinching at every muffled scream from Mr. Williams. The stench of piss and blood hangs in the air, making it hard to breathe. I cover my mouth and nose with Noah's jacket and breathe in the strong scent of his cologne, masking the sickening smells.

"You know, Mr. Williams," Noah says, stopping his sick game and straightening his posture. "I owe you a thank you, after all, because without this job, I would never have been able to find my dove." Noah tosses his knife back into his case and pulls his blood-soaked leather gloves off his fingers.

He then turns away from Mr. Williams, and for the first time since the very beginning, I get a perfect view of the man. His face is disfigured. His chest is cut open. He's drenched in blood, his testicles lying on the floor at his feet, as well as other parts of his body that I can't identify. Despite everything, he is still breathing.

Noah turns towards me. My heartbeat quickens and I take a couple of steps back, bumping into the bed. His predatory gaze is aimed at me, just like back at the cabin, at the hotel. But instead of lunging, he extends his arm and offers me his clean hand. "May I?" He asks in a calm but threatening tone.

I take a deep, shaky breath and reach for his hand, my freezing cold fingertips brushing against his burning hot palm. A wave of warmth ripples through my body. He grabs my hand and yanks me across the room, and I shriek until he has me pressed flush against his chest, one hand resting on the small of my back, the other outstretched, holding my hand.

He begins to hum a sweet melody and, without a word, begins to sway me, guiding me in a smooth dance through the room. With each step, our shoes sink into the blood-soaked fibers of the carpet, resulting in a nauseating squelch. My eyes are glued to his happy and content face as he spins me. The horrific scene around us fades into the distance until it's just the two of us and I'm able to lose myself in the moment. His humming becomes a lullaby that calms the raging storm that surrounds us.

For a brief moment, he releases my hand and reaches for his pistol before bringing it to my still outstretched hand and forces the handle into my palm, his fingers wrapping around mine. We hold the pistol together, but his finger is on the trigger.

After another smooth spin, he pulls the trigger without warning. Caught off guard, I scream at the loud explosion and kickback of the pistol, sending a series of shock waves through my muscles. I jump closer to him, pressing my face against his chest while he bursts out laughing. With a loud thud, he drops the steaming hot pistol and wraps his arms around me, holding me close.

Turning my head, I open my eyes to see where he fired and find Mr. Williams’s lifeless body. His head slumped back with a gaping hole in his skull. Blood and brain splattered all over the wall behind him.

I swallow the knot in my throat, and turn to look up at Noah, still laughing like a fucking maniac. I grab his cheeks in my hands and force him down to my level, smashing my lips against his. He quiets down and responds to the kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the ground.

The moment my feet leave the safety of the floor, I wrap my legs around his waist. My arms curl around his neck, holding on for dear life. Our kiss is messy and frantic. With our tongues fighting for dominance. "Home. Now." I break the kiss and whisper against his lips.

Chapter 34

Evelyn

With a soft thud, the front door falls shut, followed by the sound of the lock snapping into place. I grab Noah by his tie, wrap the slip around my wrist, and pull him down to my level, crashing my lips against his. He wraps his arms around my waist, cupping my ass in his palms, pressing me close to his body. The kiss is messy, with lots of tongue and saliva, a pure battle of desperation.

I tug harder on his tie, and he chokes, breaking away from the kiss. We are both panting, his hot breath tickling the heated skin of my cheeks, smelling of cigarettes and cinnamon from the mint he had on the drive back. "Follow me," I say and spin on my heels, dragging him up the stairs by his tie like a dog on a leash, and he follows me without question.

The sound of my heels clicking on the polished wooden floor, followed by his hurried, heavy footsteps, is the only sound other than our heavy breathing echoing through the dark, silent house. There is no point in wasting time on light switches. I know my way around by now, even in the dark.

Pushing open the door to the bedroom, I flip the switch and the dark room lights up with a soft, warm glow. I drag him to the bed, turn around, put my hands flat against his chest, and shove him back. He trips over his own feet and collapses onto the mattress, his legs hanging off to the side.

"Just look at you, so confident," he says with a raspy voice, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest.