Page 73 of Jump or Fall
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Before her eyes opened, she knew it hadn’t been a nightmare. Every inch of her body ached down to the bone, and the musky scent of his cologne still clung to her like a stain.
She could still feel the way he’d carried her through the hidden door in his office and up into a large bedroom. The bed was soft, but there was no comfort in it.
He’d curled around her possessively, an arm locked around her waist, breath warm against her neck. “Don’t bother trying to slip away,” he’d whispered. “I’ll know.”
She’d kept her eyes open in the dark, muscles tense, waiting for his grip to loosen. But sleep had crept in anyway, claiming her just like the man currently inhabiting the en-suite bathroom.
Her captor emerged in only a towel and casually strolled over to the closet. She shifted under the blankets to conceal herself, but he came out smirking while buttoning his shirt.
“Why bother covering what I’ve already seen and thoroughly enjoyed?”
He pulled back the covers, sending a wave of cool air over her skin.
“Up.”
Reluctantly, she got out of the bed and stood before him. Every small movement painfully bringing back the previous night. Struggling had been useless. No one would have come to help, even if they could hear.
“It won't always be like that, doll.” His voice was soft—almost remorseful—as he traced a slow line between her breasts, down to the fresh wounds on her hips still caked in blood. The cuts burned where his claws had raked through her skin and she flinched as he glanced over one. At least Lukas’s blood wasn’t on her. She’d at least kept him happy enough to avoid that.
“I can be gentle.” His lips pressed against hers, light and deliberate. “If you’re good for me, I’ll even make sure you come sometimes.”
She jerked her head away. Kissing was somehow worse. It felt more intimate. Like he believed she wanted him. The idea of him trying to make her finish, as if it were a reward, sent a wave of nausea through her.
He tsked, pinching her chin and making her meet his eyes. “Everything I do has a purpose.” His grip was firm. “Last night, I had to show you the worst, so you’d understand how important it is to behave.”
His other hand trailed lower, stroking the cuts on her side. A sharp, satisfied breath escaped him. “And these? They tell everyone you’re mine.”
With that, he released her and continued dressing.
“You’ll live here until I can trust you. Max will escort you to and from work.” Giving her a pointed look, he continued, “Stupid choices will result in stripes.” He ran a claw across her face. “Exceptionally stupid choices will land you in the Outskirts.”
How could she face her coworkers? Would they know about this?
“Why did you pick me?” she choked out.
He shrugged, as if the answer hardly mattered. “I thought about only keeping you for a night. But I like dangerous things. A lovely young armorer with tiger eyes—how could I let anyone else have you?”
He tilted her chin up again and studied her face. “Don’t look so sad. Plenty of girls would kill to be in your place. I’m a wealthy man.”
“Why not keep one of them?”
A dry laugh escaped him before his hand closed around her throat. “Apparently, you like dangerous things as well.” His grip tightened. “Don’t try to provoke me, sweetheart. It won’t end how you want.”
He released her and watched as she staggered back, gasping for breath. The rush of blood in her ears nearly drowned out his next words. “Clothes are in the closet, Rapiderm in the bathroom. Clean up and come downstairs. Then you can meet Karena.” He gave her a final appraising look before leaving the room.
Her gaze drifted to the closet. How could there possibly be clothes in her size?
Stepping inside, she took in the large walk-in space—shelves lined with neatly folded garments, racks filled with hanging outfits. Every piece looked like it would fit her. How long had he been planning this? How had he known her measurements? The thought made her stomach churn, but she shoved it aside.
After a quick glance at her arms, she reached for a simple long-sleeve blouse with a high neckline, a bra, dark blue pants, and underwear. It felt strange to wear things that weren’t hers.
She turned the shower as hot as she could stand and stepped beneath the pounding spray. The scalding water cascaded over her, scouring away the grime, the sweat—his touch. She reached for the soap. Its floral scent was overpowering, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she still felt tainted.
Under the harsh bathroom lights, her bruises deepened in color, and the cuts burned as she washed away the dried blood. It was as if he’d branded her.
Lukas’s ruined face flashed through her mind—congealed blood clinging to what was left of him. Her chest clenched, and she swallowed down a sob. How was she supposed to live like this?
