Page 9 of SKIN

“But you were, weren’t you.” I didn’t need his verbal confirmation. I could feel it in my gut. I was right.

14

HIM

Iwaited for it. That glimmer of recognition that told me she understood. That she realized what she’d done to me. It never came. Instead, she seemed proud of herself.

For what? She didn’t remember shit.

I chucked the apple against the far wall. Listened to it splatter and watched it slide down the concrete. Imagining it was her brain matter that now brightened the dark-gray paint job. I’d love to say that I was too pissed off to fuck her. But my cock had other plans. So I tossed the chair aside, oblivious to whether or not I’d cracked the wood in the process.

At this rate, I was gonna need a warehouse full of goddamn replacement furniture. Not that it mattered. Regardless of whatever game she was playing, Emily’s days were numbered.

I stalked forward, closing the distance between us, as she observed me from where she’d holed herself up in the corner of the room. For all that backtalk, she was no better than an injured bird.

I guess not much had changed after all…

The fire in her eyes was a total contradiction to how she folded into herself the closer I got. And I couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was actual fear and how much of it was Emily trying to play games with my head.

Did she honestly think the bullshit act would earn her some sympathy?

Nah, she knew better than that. She also knew I liked the fight. So maybe this was her way of trying to dial it down. To play coy like that would stop me. No matter what she was trying to do, I saw the truth in the way she looked at me. How her pupils dilated. She wasn’t afraid. She was fucking pissed.

My steps were slow, measured, as I closed the distance before dropping to my haunches and tipping her chin up so she was forced to meet my gaze. And my lips curled into half a grin, whether I wanted them to or not.

I lowered my face to her ear, watching her hold her breath in my peripheral as I whispered the singular word. “Run.”

She sucked in a lungful of air and exhaled on a gasp, her eyes flicking to the door. She hadn’t even realized I’d left it open. Barely an inch.

Emily scrambled to her feet, the panic heightening the rush of adrenaline presently coursing through her veins as she shoved the hospital bed in my path and bolted towards the other side of the room. The moment she yanked the door open and slipped into the hallway, I rolled up my sleeves. Cracked my neck from side to side and sprinted after her. I gave her a good running start, which meant that she’d already tugged on the first few doors. Found them locked and was forced to round the corner and barrel head-first into the unknown.

She wouldn’t get far—a fact she’d figure out soon enough.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I sang after her, my words bouncing off the walls and encasing her along with the darkness. I could hear her panted breaths. The pitter-pattering of her bare feet on the concrete and her muttered expletives each time she was met by more resistance.

This was what I needed. The hunt. Not the frightened little girl ready to crack into a pool of obedience beneath the heat of my gaze. Maybe there was a time when I was attracted to that side of her. A part that wanted to care for Emily and tend to her every need. But that part of me was buried along with the rest of my face.

Two more long strides and I reached the end of the hall and the last room. She’d just turned the knob. Slipped inside and slammed it shut. My little pet was desperate. I could taste it in the air.

But what my poor, sweet Emily had failed to realize was that she’d just walked into my trap. Like a rodent reaching for that tempting block of cheese, only to find themselves cut off at the tail.

15

HER

Islammed my palms against the ice-cold walls, searching for something. A door. A way out. A goddamn window. Anything. And all I found was more concrete. Leaving me no choice but to spin on my heels, pressing my back to the closest surface, and face the pitch-blackness of the room.

It was sheer stupidity. To think anything the man did was a mistake or an error in judgment. But that was the fucked-up thing about hope. It struck you dumb. Let you believe in childish ideas like chance, luck, fate, and love. And there was no room for any of that shit in the real world.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light. But I could finally make out different shapes. Four walls. A low ceiling and a cot. Nothing else. If I thought the last spot was a prison, this was a veritable jail cell—a steel door where the bars should be. There wasn’t even a light bulb dangling from the ceiling.

I’d run from the comforts of a dungeon straight into my grave. My heavy breaths thickened the air as I awaited whatever would greet me on the other side of that door. I knew it was only a matter of time.

When your senses were hindered by a lack of light and an eerie soundlessness, it was hard to tell how much time had passed. But the creaking of the heavy door was both fear-inducing and a welcomed reprieve from the stifling silence. I could smell him before I could see him. Not to say it was a bad odor. Just one I’d grown accustomed to over the last few days. Something akin to cedar-scented soap, mint from chewing gum, and a hint of cigarette smoke.

I remained glued to the wall, even as his boots squeaked across the floor with each step he took in my direction. It wasn’t like there was anywhere to go anyway. I mean, I could try to run past him. But that would only lead me back to where I started…

“Did you enjoy your little bit of freedom, pet?” He grinned. I couldn’t see it but I could hear it in his voice as it bounced around the small room before sending a shiver down my spine.

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