Page 97 of Delivered to the Devil

Twenty agonizing minutes pass like this.

A slow tremble settles in my bones and works its way up to jerky tremors. When a particularly severe one makes me jolt, I think it will break me from the paralysis and into hysteria, but nothing happens. I remain rooted to the couch even though everything inside me itches to tear the pristine façade of this place apart.

It’s only when steps in the hallway announce someone coming that I manage to move and turn my head. I can barely breathe as I stare at the door, expecting Gabor to come and sayJanos is dead and I’m his now. So when Janos appears, the relief is like a shock to my system. My heart slams against my ribcage, and tears pool in my eyes. It takes everything I have to keep them from spilling down my cheeks and hold myself straight. I know this isn’t the end; there’s still more to come.The first down payment.

Janos looks as impassive as when he sent me out of the office, giving no signs of what has transpired. But when I look at his left hand, the air sticks like a cork in my throat. Where his pinkie and ring finger should be is a thick, white bandage. Looking back up at his face, I notice he does seem a little pale, his features taut. But his posture remains tall and proud, the strength in his eyes unwavering.

Nausea twists my stomach as he stops in front of me, and I stare at his left hand.One, two, three,I count over and over, never reaching four and five.

“Look at me.” Janos grips my jaw with his good hand, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “It’s just a couple of fingers. It’s not important.”

I stare at him, unable to process his words.

“Breathe,” he orders, and I drag in a small gulp of air that barely passes the restriction in my throat.

“One more,” he guides, and I give it a few more tries before I succeed, filling my lungs as I cling to the steady command in his eyes. “It’s just a couple of fingers,” he repeats. “Okay?”

I nod even though I can’t write off the loss of his fingers as insignificant the same way he does. But even so, this is more than I dared hope for.He’s still here. Alive.So I force the image of his three-fingered hand from my mind and focus on the one that wraps around my arm and helps me up. Once I’m on my feet, he slides his hand under my hair and grips my nape. The rough way he leads me down the hall must look callous to anyone watching from the outside, but I feel the small caressesunder my hair, and his firm grip is a steadying force that chases away the quivers in my legs.

Gabor watches me with animalistic hunger as Janos herds me into the office. “Put her on the desk. Naked.”

Janos steps in front of me, blocking my vision of the man who is my nightmare. The man who is once again going to use and abuse me.

“He’s just going to fuck you,” Janos says. “I’ll be the one dealing out the pain.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. I feel nauseous from the sight of Janos’s missing fingers, and bile rises at the back of my throat at the idea of pain. I thought I was willing to do anything to belong to Janos, but right now, I can’t take it. My stomach is churning like it’s refusing to hold on to its contents for much longer, my head is pounding, and it gets worse every time I try to focus my blurry eyes.

“Rebecca, look at me,” Janos demands, grabbing my jaw the same way Gabor did earlier. But where Gabor’s grip sent icy shivers through my skin, Janos’s touch soothes the sick feeling in my body somewhat.

“It’smypain,” he says. “You’re mine now, and you’ll come for me while I hurt you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as the reality of my situation once again slams into me.Pain, Gabor, helplessness.The same nightmare that I had escaped.

“Rebecca,” Janos repeats, my name a stern warning on his tongue. “Mine.” He digs his fingers in with a force that hurts. But the pain isn’t cruel. It’s potent. Powerful. Like him. And as I watch the strength in his eyes mixing with that strange sort of protectiveness I seemed to rouse in him the first time our eyes locked, the fear changes. It doesn’t disappear, but it takes on a new character. It becomes this buzzing sort of urge for… something more. Something that will make me feel alive.Something that will stabilize the chaos within me and mend my brokenness. And only one man can do that. The man I now belong to.

So I nod. It’s all I can do as I get lost in his hard, gray eyes that hold all the power and control I can’t find within myself.

Releasing my jaw, he takes a step back and crosses his arms over his wide chest, making his biceps bulge menacingly beneath his suit jacket. “Take off your clothes,” he demands.

I don’t think; I just act, lifting the hem of my blouse and dragging it over my head. It’s pure instinct. Survival, or maybe submission. I can’t figure out which as I stare into the dangerous depths of Janos’s gaze.

“Impressive,” Gabor says behind Janos. “You should reconsider training my next toy. I rather like seeing how you’ve manipulated her to your will, Janos.”

“Shut up,” Janos growls with a force that makes me jump.

I tense up, fearing Gabor’s reaction. But he only chuckles, and when I throw a quick glance behind Janos, I see Gabor’s eyes light up.Fuck,I almost think he gets off on this. Janos’s power and the control. Maybe even Janos telling him off.

“On the desk,” Janos orders once I’m fully naked, his tone hard and uncompromising. Part of me is scared shitless, but that fear seems to awaken a slow hum deep within my belly. Because as much as I fear Janos and the pain he’s going to inflict, I want it too. I wanthim.With everything it entails. His devastating control, his brutality, and his protection. “Ass on the edge,” he adds as I scoot onto the desk and lie down on my back, planting my feet on the surface. My whole body shivers, chills spreading over my skin and raising goosebumps along my arms.

Janos comes to stand at my side, and the slap he delivers to my face has my head jerking to the side.

“No,” I yelp as pain flares in my cheek. The shock has me drawing in on myself, squeezing my eyes shut and tensing my muscles. But Janos won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” he demands with a force that pulls me straight out of the onsetting panic. “Thank me.”

“What?” I say through shallow breaths.

“Thank me for slapping you and ask me to do it again.”

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