Page 69 of The Sinner's Touch

He was unraveling and making mistake after mistake. Losing the other girl must have pushed him over the edge. The fact that he was using his own car testified to how unstable he was becoming.

“The tech lab was able to recover the image. A place called Harvey’s Wrecker. Forty minutes outside the city.” He placed both the blown-up image and the Google Maps photo on the desk in front of them.

“This is how we catch him.” Jeremy rubbed his hands together. “Mistakes, gentlemen. Mistakes are the life’s blood of police work.”

“Let’s go get your woman, Kade.” Viktor slapped him on the back.

Kade closed his eyes and said a prayer of thanks.

He would get there in time.

Sensation started to return a few minutes after the madman left her alone. First in her fingertips, then other areas. Little by little, she began to regain control of her muscles. When she could turn her head, she studied the room she was in.

The furniture in here was stark. A white dresser stood against one wall, a basin its only adornment. A door was beside the dresser. Had to be a bathroom. Nightstands took up the space on both sides of the bed. The floor-length mirror directly across from her captured her attention. As she’d suspected, he’d handcuffed her feet to the bottom rail of the bed. Bruises were forming on her hip. He must have hit her. It was going to hurt like a bitch when the feeling came back.

The image of his fingers inside her rose, and she forced it back. She had to get out of here, and dwelling on that wasn’t going to help. It took a while for her to regain control of her hands, but as soon as she could, she yanked at her bonds. The harsh steel of the handcuffs bit into her flesh when she pulled against the rail with all her might, but it didn’t budge.

She heard a door open and close. Shit. Was he back? Had he ever left? Maybe he’d taken a nap in the other room. What was he doing? She strained her ears, trying to pick up on the smallest sound.

Minutes passed. Footsteps walked back and forth across the floor in the other room. She twisted and turned, trying to break the handcuffs. What the hell was he doing?

The bedroom door opened, and he walked in carrying a kettle, the kind you used to boil water to make tea. Steam rose from the spout. What was he going to do with that? Her eyes followed him as he walked over to the closet and took out an iDock. He plugged it in then settled his phone in it. A moment later, the slow, sultry sound of Twenty One Pilots’Heathensfilled the air. It was a song she’d listened to on repeat many times. She’d found it soothing before, but now a sense of dread settled over her.

“Hello, my angel.”

His voice was deep, cultured. Upper class. He was only wearing a pair of light denim jeans, faded and worn in places. His muscles rippled as he moved. The man worked out. He didn’t have the same stealthy grace Kade did, but it was close. Each movement was calculated, unnerving. She found it sexy as hell when Kade did it, but in this man, it terrified her.

Setting the kettle on the empty bedside table, he sat next to her. His eyes were blue again. Contacts. He’d been wearing contacts. Their icy depths were calmer than before. The anger was gone. Only anticipation remained.

“How are we coming along? Feeling back yet?” Grasping her shoulders and hips, he turned her on her stomach, and his hand ran up and down her back. She forced herself to stay still, to not react in any way.

“No? You wouldn’t be playing possum, now, would you, my angel?” She watched in horror as he opened the drawer on the nightstand and took out a knife. It reminded her of a hunting knife, but the hilt was different. It looked like some elaborate dagger. The tip of the blade ghosted down her arm and back up, along her shoulders.

She swallowed. He pressed the tip in deeper when it met the soft flesh between her shoulder blades. Angel clenched her teeth, fighting the cry that wanted to escape. He scooted farther downthe bed, the knife tracing along her hip, over her ass cheeks, down her legs to the backs of her thighs.

“Nothing yet?” he murmured.

Searing pain jolted through her, and she screamed. Her head twisted to see he’d pushed the blade straight through her foot. He twisted it, making her cry out. More pain arched up her leg when he slid the blade out.

“That’s what I thought.” He gave her a satisfied nod. “You see, my angel, when you play along like a good girl, it won’t hurt as much. I like to hear your screams. When you don’t give it all to me, you only cause me to inflict more pain than necessary.”

Crazy bastard. She wanted to spit at him, but fear held her still.Don’t antagonize him.

“Such beautiful, pale, alabaster skin.” He leaned down and placed tiny kisses along the backs of her legs. He sat up and ran his hands along her thighs, cupping her ass when he reached it. He pulled them away, and a hard slap hit first one cheek then the other. She whimpered at the pain. “Ah, there you go, my angel. Let me hear you.” He rained down several more slaps against her ass, each one harder than the last, and she cried out with each one.

She sobbed, tears and snot mingling.

“Look at how pretty your skin is, all pink and just waiting to be touched.” His fingers slid between her butt cheeks, fingering her anus, before dipping down farther, parting her folds. He found her clit and rubbed it. “So warm, my angel. Soon my cock is going to be buried inside you. Do you want that? Won’t it feel good when I take you?”

She whimpered and buried her head in her pillow. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it, bringing her head up. “No. You will watch what I do to you, do you understand?”

Angel nodded, and he released her hair. “Lay your head down, turn it to face the mirror, and if I see your eyes closed, I will remove your eyelids so you can’t look away. Am I clear?”

Her eyes widened, and she whispered, “Yes.”

When she complied, he resumed rubbing slow circles around her clit and reached for the kettle. “There is such joy in pleasure and pain. Your skin is going to make the perfect canvas for my art.”

She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the mirror. She watched as he tipped the kettle toward her, watched as a slow stream of boiling water fell. When the first drops hit her back, she froze, but as more fell, she arched, trying to get away from the searing pain. He continued to pour the water over her back, her shoulders, her ass, her legs. All the while, he fingered her.

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