Page 7 of Some Like it Violent

“There’s something about the way fear looks in a person’s eyes and the way their blood stains my hands as they’re dying. It’s my obsession.”

I instinctively lifted my legs and moved backward on the bed, wanting as much space between us as possible. Not that it would make a difference because the weight of what he told me dropped onto me like an anvil, crushing me.

He took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. His violent and dangerous aura swallowed me whole.

He was a foot from the mattress, and all I could see, hear, and smell was this stranger who was crowding my space.

“And here’s the thing,” he murmured, his voice a growl that made my stomach twist with terror… and something else. “If you’re a good girl, if you listen and do what I say without a fight… thenmaybe—just maybe—I’ll let you live.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until I tasted the salt on my lips, and my breath hitched. His unwavering stare bore into my flinching one, and in that moment, I realized the most terrifying thing out of this whole situation.

He was feeding off my fear right now.

And as I lowered my gaze, his massive erection proved he was getting sadistic pleasure out of all of this.

“You’re going to let me stay here until the heat dies down,” he ordered. “Once I’m sure the authorities are off my tail and the hunt has moved on to somewhere else, I’ll leave.”

I heard his unspoken words:“If I feel like it.”

My mouth was dry, and my muscles seemed to be permanently contracted in horror and anxiety. “And if I refuse?” I whispered before I could stop myself.

He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound that left me feeling like he whipped it across my body. “You won’t refuse.” He said so coldly there was no doubt he believed—and I knew—it was the absolute truth.

He took one last step toward me, and I felt and heard the bed skid back an inch as his muscular legs came up against it. He hovered right over me, so tall I knew my bent knees did nothing to hide any bit of my body from his sight, and there was this glint in his eyes that beckoned me to challenge what he said.

“I guess the most important question right now is… are you going to fight me?”

My head tilted all the way back as I stared up at him, and I shook it slowly, my voice barely a whisper, as I answered, “No.”

Although he showed no emotion or expression, I knew he was… disappointed.

He wanted me to fight him even though he said he didn’t.

He wanted me to fight him because it would turn him on like the fucking sicko he already confessed he was.

He looked me over and said, “That's my good girl.”

My eyes went wide as saucers, my mouth dropped opened as my jaw unlocked, and I felt… something I didn't want to examine as it moved through me at those four words. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, and whatever he saw in me right then had this dangerous sound leaving his chest.

“You’re going to do as I say. Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll make sure you’re unharmed when this is all said and done.”

And for some reason, I believed him once again.

He watched me with that unsettling, predatory stare, and I took a moment to look at him. Toreallylook at him. His dark hair was cut short and was slightly disheveled around his head. His eyes were dark—as dark as I assumed his soul was, if he even had one. But I thought I saw a hint of blue between the shadows.

He had what looked like several days’ worth of black scruff covering his cheeks and chin, and the scar on the side of his face that curved down his neck and stopped at his collarbone made me curious about how he got it.

“You’re a killer.” I slowly looked back up at his face, shocked I wasn't afraid of uttering those words.

“I am, little girl. I’m a cold-blooded killer… and you’re trapped inside your house with me,” he said, the last part coming out almost as an afterthought. “But every single one of them deserved my wrath.” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Some just like it violent, Evelina.”

It was as if the devil whispered that intimately in my ear, and I shivered at the indecent thoughts it provoked.

“So, we understand each other, right?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to respond. This wasn’t just an invasion of my home—it was a complete takeover, a violation ofeverything safe and familiar, and I had no choice but to accept it all.

“Take a moment to gather yourself and then come downstairs.”

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