Page 43 of The Ruthless Note

His fingers drag over the back of my neck and down to my shoulders. Everywhere he touches burns. The sensation makes me both languid with heat and sick to my stomach.

Hate and lust.

Passion and fury.

Why is the line between these emotions so thin?

My heart beats a frantic rhythm. With every circle he makes around me, with every brush of his fingers, I’m being thrust deeper into Dutch’s world. I know it and yet I’m helpless against it.

I try to throw him off by saying, “You didn’t like my gift?”

He stops. His amber eyes darken a shade, the browns taking over the fierce, honeycombs. Worse than a mysterious enemy in the shadows, he’s a monster with his hands close enough to snap my neck.

He ducks close, his voice mellow and, right underneath that, velvet steel. It reminds me of his singing voice, the kind of tone that’s as warm as brandy. Smooth as it goes down. Burns when it lands in the belly.

“Cadey, Cadey, Cadey.”

I stiffen.

Dutch’s gaze sweeps over me like a brutal hurricane. “You used to be so…”

“Naive? Gullible?” I spit.

“Harmless.”

When he stares down at me, I can barely breathe. His eyes are half-hooded, his mouth hard and firm. More monster than man, a creature built of sin and destruction.

There’s a charge in the air that whispers Dutch is ready to rip the mask off my carefully constructed facade. I dig my fingers into fists. The appearance of being cold and unshaken is all I have. I refuse to let him see beneath that to the frightened, scholarship kid underneath. A girl just like all the other girls who duck their heads and make room for him in the hallways. A girl so easily destroyed by a hard gaze.

In a burst of courage, I step toward him instead of away. His eyebrow hikes.

“You won’t hurt me, Dutch,” I bluff, my voice dark and soft and sultry enough to cover my quivering arms.

He smiles, but it’s cruel and frightening. His eyes remain on my face. “Why not?”

“Because, whether I’ve lied to you or not, I’m stillher.” I advance on him again, my heels clicking loudly against the stage floors. “Your precious Redhead.”

His eyes narrow slightly. It’s a testament to the ironclad control he has on his emotions that no other part of him jumps.

Finn warned me not to poke this angry bear, but I’ve got my stick and I’m plunging it as deep as it can go. If I’m going to die, I might as well take a pound of Dutch’s flesh with me.

“You wouldn’t hurther, would you?” My words hang in the room. The air is tense enough to snap in two.

A thin, cruel smile works its way across his lips. “Then play for me,” he says. Without even raising his voice, his words are full of authority. “And maybe I’ll spare you.”

“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” I snarl.

“You can’t, can you?”

I glare at him.

He touches a finger to my ear and then trails it down to my lips. “If you waste my time, Cadey, the punishment will be more severe.”

I shiver, but I’m not sure whether it’s from anger, desperation or desire. All I know is that I can’t let him win.

Batting his hand away, I storm angrily to the piano, drag the bench back under it and sit. My fingers poise over the keys. I start to bring my hands down, but they stop right above the black and white bed as if there’s a protective glass over the piano.

My mind is screaming at me to play.

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