Page 39 of Panic-Button
It wasn’t something I could explain, but it was there. Trina felt it too. It was a force that made us sneak into each other’s room at night or pick up the phone. We just knew when we needed each other. If there was anything capable of reaching Preston’s humanity, it should be his sister. It was worth a shot, at the very least.
What did I have to lose?
“What would Ava say?”
“Are you trying to humanize me? Come on now, Marnie.” He shook his head. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
There had to be something he cared about. “What about Parker?”
“What about him?”
“What would he say if he knew what you were doing?”
Preston swirled the knife around my belly button and sighed, “You’re going to have to be more specific. My brother has a lot of opinions.”
Attempting to escape the tingles pouring up my body, I sucked back a breath and hallowed in my stomach. “You kidnapped me. I doubt Parker would be okay with that.”
“Probably not.” He shrugged. “Now, ask me if I care.”
That was the question.
Preston grazed the knife around my hip and up my side, causing goosebumps to travel up my arms.
Concentrating was becoming problematic, but I still managed to say, “You have to care about something.”
“Do I?” He didn’t even look up at me. His eyes were fixed on the knife, lazily gliding up my body.
“Yes.” Even Ted Bundy had a heart. Otherwise, he would’ve killed his girlfriend. I just had to get Preston to feel it.
“Preston…”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” He cut me off. “Bringing up my family and saying my name won’t make me see you any different than I do right now. So you can stop wasting your time.”
My mouth opened before I could stop it, “How do you see me?”
The answer was displayed in the playful glimmer darkening his eyes. For the first time, I saw a touch of blue in those gray orbs. Tiny flecks that sparkled with depravity. The worst part was that I let it seep in. I could feel defeat edging its way into my veins.
I hated it, and I hated myself for letting it press down on me. A long time ago, I swore no one would have that kind of power again. That vulnerable little girl cornered in the bathroom was gone. I shoved her into the swirling pit in my stomach and closed the door. Fear was a weak emotion used by weaker men. I was better than that.
I was better than them.
So why couldn’t I move?
Why didn’t I jerk away when Preston dragged the knife up my side? Why did I lay there praying the metal didn’t pierce my skin? Why didn’t I do something?
Adrenaline made me feel everything. Every inch, the blade moved. The warmth from his hand soaking into me. I was starved for something.
I tried to shut it out and focus on more important things. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the sound of blood whooshing through my ears as little tingles and sparks funneled straight into my core.
This was so fucked up. I should’ve yelled or lashed out. Anything would’ve been better than staring up at Preston. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The way he looked at me like he wanted to bathe in my blood and devour me whole wasn’t as terrifying as my thighs squeezing together when his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip.
There was something wrong with me. Maybe there were still some drugs in my system. Who knows what he gave me? Some of that stuff stayed around for days. It was the only thing that made sense because I would never react this way. Not to something like this.
“There’s nothing quite as enticing as the scent of fear.” Preston slipped the blade under my bra between my breasts and tipped his head. “Except for maybe the taste of blood.”
The fabric gave way with one flick of his wrist, and all I could do was grit my teeth as cool air wafted over my exposed flesh. My nipples hardened, making me swallow the gasp threatening to break through my lips.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
