Page 21 of Red

“I could go back to the other room.” She exchanged her laptop for the bowl of ice cream and scooped up a bite. “I heard people working on the window. I’m sure it’s been replaced.”

He watched the soft vanilla ice cream disappear into her mouth. Her full lips pulled the sweet concoction from the spoon, and her tongue lightly touched her lip.

“I want you in here,” he said.

“Why?” she asked before shoveling in another spoonful.

“Because I do.” Why did everyone feel so damn determined to figure out the reasons behind every one of his fucking orders?

She put the bowl down and slid from the bed. “That’s not much of an answer. Did you think you’d get to sample the goods before selling me off?” Her hands rested on her hips as she confronted him.

Her long red curls were all bundled up in a messy bun, showcasing her long neck. Creamy skin he could sink his teeth into, suck and lick—much like the ice cream melting on the nightstand.

“You’re tired. If you don’t want the ice cream, go to bed.”

“No.” She dropped her hands and straightened out her body, a human steel beam.

His gaze narrowed; heat built on the back of his neck. “What did you say?”

“I said no.” She took a deep breath, rounded her shoulders, and pushed on a fierce scowl. He wasn’t entirely sure which of them she was trying to convince with her show of false bravado.

“You said no.” Anyone who knew him would recognize it was time to back off. But she didn’t have the same history with him—yet.

“That’s right. No. I haven’t had a fucking say in any of this, but I can decide when and if I go to fucking bed!” Her arms pumped at her sides throughout her little tirade. If the situation had been different, he would have found it adorable. Even the freckles on her nose seemed to dance with her irritation.

“You are getting a choice in this—”

“Choice? You told me you have to sell me to honor my grandfather’s debt. You said that. So, my choices are what? Who gets to buy me? Who I get to be a slave to for the rest of my life?” Her cheeks reddened. “You are a monster. A disgusting monster.”

Erik’s heart clenched. “You think so?” He took a menacing step toward her.

Her eyes darted to the door, but she’d never make it. “You— I—”

“What’s wrong, Melinda? Run out of bravery?” he mocked her. She’d had all afternoon to gather up her anger and spew it at him when he walked in, but she would learn to keep her venom fanged from now on.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” she asked in a more placating tone. But it was too late. The claws had been unsheathed.

“Oh, I will,” he promised. She tried to dart around him, but he caught her.

In a fluid motion, he spun and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“No! What are you doing?” Her fists banged against his shoulder blades, but he wouldn’t be stopped. She wanted to see what a monster truly was, and he was going to give her the lesson she needed.

The door bounced off the wall when he flung it open. Marching down the hall and down the stairs, taking little care to be sure she wasn’t bouncing too hard, he headed for the stairs leading down to the basement.

Nico popped up from the couch in the living room when Erik passed by with Melinda screaming and kicking over his shoulder.

“Stay the fuck there,” Erik barked at him as he rounded the corner and went for the room he needed.

“What are you doing! Put me down!” She pounded harder, and her legs kicked. He readjusted his grip around her knees and smacked her ass hard enough to knock some sense into her.

“Stop wiggling like that!” He smacked her once more then threw open the door to the basement.

“I don’t want to go down there!” she cried when his boots clattered down the wooden staircase.

“Sure you do. You want to see the monster.” He flicked on the lights.

His uncle had a special basement. At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary man-cave with a large screen television set. A dartboard hung on the wall. A minibar and fridge nestled in the corner. Really cozy.

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