Page 123 of Only for Him
“Do you know why you’re here, Skinner?” I ask.
My voice doesn’t shake. That scares me more than anything. I should be horrified.
“For some bullshitI didn’t do,” he spits.
Ifeellike he’s lying, and though that’s not good enough… I want it to be. Dear God, I want him to have done it so I have a reason to sink my teeth into him and make him pay for what he did to my sister.
Roman’s lips brush the edge of my ear, a whirl of heat up my spine. “He’s going to lie until he thinks he’s dying.”
Skinner leans back in the chair. “You have your bitch doing your dirty work now?”
Roman takes a step toward him, then stops. He lifts his hands, palms open, steps back.
“I won’t touch him,” he says. “He’s yours, little viper.”
“Little viper?” Skinner snorts. “That’s cute. She looks more like a little cunt to me.”
I feel the vibrations of Roman’s rage behind me. He doesn’t like the way Skinner is talking to me.
I don’t fucking like it, either.
I step forward, blade in hand, and meet Skinner’s gaze. He’s older than me, but not by much. The years haven’t been kind. He smells like sweat and cheap aftershave. You’d think his line of work would at least afford him a nice cologne.
He stares like he’s still in control, daring me.
“You know Serena Cantiano?”
Saying her name here, in front of him, feels like an incantation. It drags me that much deeper into my darkness.
He laughs again. “You really think I remember every gash they move through the city? Get bent.”
Roman’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“Make him answer,” he says.
I press the point of the knife to Skinner’s thigh, just above the knee. I don’t know if that’s the right place to start. I’ve never done this before. Would Roman tell me if I was doing it wrong? Is there a wrong way to do it?
I can’t go back to being a detective after this, so I better get real fucking good at being whateverthisis.
“Do you know Serena Cantiano?”
“Go to hell,” Skinner spits, saliva dribbling down his chin.
Pressing harder, the blade sinks in. I twist, just a little, and he jerks against the tape binding his arms.
Yes. Yes. YES.
“Fuck, okay! I knew a girl, looked like you, a little bit. Name started with an S, had some fucking guinea last name like that. But that’s all I know! Fuck!”
I drag the knife across his thigh. Skinner slams his head back, eyes wide. It’s not deep enough to slice the artery, but enough to paint the floor red. It’s beautiful.
Thisis beautiful.
Butthosehands, onmysister? So fucking ugly. He deserves to lose them altogether.
What if he’s telling the truth? What if he doesn’t know anything more? What if he really had nothing to do with Serena?
Look what you’ve done, Giselle. Look at what you’ve become.
