Page 71 of A Twisted Arrangement

My heart comes to a dead stop before slamming into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. “Just get out.”

Matthias cants his head to the side, observing me. “Okay…I’m going to wash up.”

“Not in here!” I call after him, standing as if to grab his arm. He’s been using the bathroom down the hall, and I hadn’t calculated for this.

He smirks down at where my fingers brush his bicep and grins. “Did you want to come with me?”

I choke out a breath, biting the corner of my lip. There’s something about his smile that makes me want to lift onto mytoes and press my mouth to his. I need to play this perfectly, and kissing him is not a part of the plan. At least not yet.

“Just clean up after yourself,” I scoff.

“I always do.” He has an unnatural ability to make everything sound dirty.

The second the door to the bathroom clicks shut behind him, I head straight to the dresser. I purposely chose this drawer because it houses my pajamas, but that doesn’t stop the rhythm of my heart from racing. It’s like I just walked off a building, and my body hasn’t figured out I have a parachute yet.

I bring my clothes to the bed, and under the cover of my sleep shirt, I slide the blade between the mattress and the frame, pushing it backward until it’s hidden by the dresser.

I’m so amazed that I pulled it off that I nearly jump out of my skin when Matthias walks out, toothbrush in hand. His eyes are sharp as they scan me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up at his appraisal as I try to keep my anxiety from my face, using the best tool I have.

I hold my shirt up, covering my not-bare chest. “Get out. I’m changing.”

The suspicious eyes turn dark, toothbrush pausing mid-stroke.

“I said get out!” I yell.

“You have thirty seconds to get your ass into bed.” He turns and heads into the bathroom, and I catch a peek at his broad back as the door closes.

Why does he have to be so freaking hot? It’s unholy.

I rip my shirt off, replacing it rapidly, and do the same with my skirt. My sleep shorts are tighter than I’d normally wear. I internally groan, knowing getting the wrong size is likely intentional on his part.

I tuck the blanket up to my ears, pinching my eyes closed and counting in my head. I can do this. I just need to distract him long enough to get the upper hand.

The bed indents with his weight, and I have to use a hand to stop myself from rolling into him.

“You’re not sleeping here, asshole.” I say it, but I’m counting on this happening. Matthias is easy to read, and the chances of him sleeping anywhere else are slim to none.

He hums, mouth close to my nape. “Why not? This is my bed?”

“Listen—”

Matthias covers my mouth with one hand, turns me to face him, and presses his forehead against mine. “I’ve already given up too many nights without you.”

His words are sweet enough to kill. They make me want things I can’t have. I need to do this now, or I’ll never find the nerve again. I wrap my fingers around the knife and twist so my mouth presses against his. He doesn’t open immediately; instead, his eyes stay hot on mine.Come on. Close your eyes.

I run my tongue along the seam of his lips, and it’s like a band snaps in him. His mouth opens to take over the kiss. He tastes like mint toothpaste, and I let the sensation fill me for one more second before raising my hand.

Matthias freezes the moment the cool tip of the blade touches his throat. I’ve positioned myself so I’m lifted on my left elbow and my knife in my right hand, the edge grazing his skin.

“You are going to let me go, Matthias, or I’m going to slit your throat.” I pray that he doesn’t hear the tremble in my voice. The way that my mind screams at me to drop the knife. I’m not going to kill him, but a hard hit to the temple with the handle will at least knock him out. Then, I can threaten the guards with killing his unconscious body. The chances of me getting away are next to nothing. I have to get past the guards, dig out my tracker, andI’m not sure there’s anywhere I can go that he can’t find me, but I can’t just sit here and let this happen. I’m never going to allow myself to be someone’s captive again.

The asshole smirks at me, his grin growing until it’s a full smile. He grips my hand, but instead of pulling away, he digs the blade in deeper.

Shit. I jerk, but he holds me in place.

“Go ahead, Little Sparrow. I’ll die a happy man.”

Blood drips down from the cut as he pushes it deeper. Tears sting the back of my eyes. This isn’t what I wanted. “Please, let me go.”

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