Alex wraps his arm around my stomach, squeezing me tighter against his chest. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. All I can do is watch his hand, and the knife, as he runs the handle up my stomach to my sternum.
“It doesn’t have to be your ribs,” he murmurs against my cheek. “You’ll bleed just about anywhere.”
To my horror, Alex rotates the knife and carefully slips the blade between the thin strap of my tank top and my collarbone, letting the razor edge rest there in torturous silence.
“No, don’t—” I finally find my voice, but it only comes out as an airy squeak.
“You wanted this.”
Did I, though?I don’t want anyone cutting me with a knife!
Suddenly, he jerks his arm and I let out a shriek. In one motion, he slices through the elastic strap of my top with a snap. I grab his arm, digging my nails in as he squeezes me tighter.
“Shhhh…” he hisses in my ear.
I set my jaw and inhale deeply, trying to decide whether this feeling pulsing in my gut is fear or something far more terrifying and complicated. Slowly, he moves his knife across my chest and I freeze again as he slips the blade beneath my other strap. He hesitates, then just like before, jerks the blade away from my shoulder, eliciting another yelp before slicing through the strap.
The corners of my shirt dog-ear at the top of my chest, leaving my collarbones completely bare. Terrified, I wait for Alex to follow through with what he started. But instead, he flips the knife closed with a click.
I realize my flesh is still intact and, after a few moments, gather enough nerve to look over my shoulder. And as soon as I do, Alex’s mouth stretches into the widest grin I’ve ever seen.
“Is that it?” I gasp, “Is that what you meant by cutting me?”
Alex taps his forehead against my temple. “Come on, Dal, I’m not a fucking monster.” Then he runs his hand over my bare shoulder. “Where’s that cute bra I told you to wear?”
“I changed my mind. This shirt has one built in.”
Hadone built in…
But Alex doesn’t say anything, I only feel his chest rising and falling beneath me and his warm cheek against mine. The silence is deafening and his intoxicating scent is making me throb in places I wish it wouldn’t. He runs his hands over my stomach and up my torso at an agonizing pace, but he doesn’t go any higher than my ribcage.
“I won’t touch you,” he murmurs in my ear.
I go dizzy for a moment at the sound of his voice as his fingertips knead the flesh just beneath my tits, but he keeps his promise and doesn’t go any higher.
“Look at me,” he breathes into the side of my face.
But I can’t, because I’m going crazy from his touch and I’m afraid I’m going to do something I shouldn’t.
“Dallas,” he says again, “look at me.”
I give a slight shake of my head, focusing on the spiderweb crack stretching like tentacles across the window. A moment later, Alex grasps my chin in the crook of his thumb and, firmly but gently, rotates my face to his.
“No me alejes…”
My face relaxes and I just stare back at him in confusion.
“Ey, no me alejes,” he repeats, none of the words making sense to me.
But, for some reason, it’s oddly comforting.
“Cariño,” he repeats it, this time slower. “No. Me. Alejes.”
“What's that mean?” I finally ask.
“I can teach you if you just look at me. And then I bet you’ll love me looking at you.”
I take a deep breath. “No me...” I pause, trying to remember what he said.