“Answer me, Peach,” he growls.
My panic rises, but I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure I could find my voice even if I tried.
Cocking his head to the side, his gray-tinted tongue darts out between his lips before he runs it along his yellow teeth.
Then he takes a final puff of his cigarette and presses the hot, ashy end of it to my collarbone.
My entire body contorts in agony as a tortured scream claws its way up my throat. I try to wrench away from the boiling contact, but my cuffs hold me hostage, leaving me with the slight scent of burning flesh wafting through the air.
“Stop!” I beg. “Stop it!”
A satisfied smile stretches across Sei’s face. “Answer me, Peach. Did he touch you the way I touch you?”
I shake my head back and forth. “No. He would never touch me the way you touched me.”
His gaze narrows. “Shall we check? Just to be sure?” He hesitates before grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “I have a better idea. Let’s play a different game.” Raising his index finger into the air, he motions for me to give him a minute, then disappears from the room. My breathing is staggered as I wait for him to return, terrified about what his game might entail.
I just want to go home.
A sob wracks my body as the image of Diece comes to mind instead of the apartment I was living in before I was taken.
He’s my home now. And I was stupid enough to even question it.
I just want D. I want him to hold me. To tell me he loves me. To tell me it’s going to be okay. But it’s not okay. I can’t fight Sei. I’m not strong enough.
With a gasp, the word strong sparks my memory before Diece’s deep voice accompanies it. You’re stronger than you know. Braver than you think. And just broken enough to accept me.
He was right. I do accept him. Flaws and all. Because he accepts mine without hesitation. And maybe I can be brave for him—strong for him—too.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I dig through my memories of our self-defense lessons, desperate to find a solution for this messed-up situation. I need to get out of here. If I could just get out of these cuffs, I might have a chance of escaping. But how the hell do I get out of handcuffs without a key? I struggle against the punishing metal for another second before giving up when my raw skin screams in protest. I won’t be able to break free. I need to convince Sei to let me loose. But why would he do that?
The idea hits me like a truck and is quickly followed by bile creeping up my raw throat.
Shit.
I’m so screwed.
34
Q
The floorboards creak in the hallway as Sei returns. A familiar knife is in his grasp, hanging at his side with the promise of more scars. More pain. More torture.
I have no idea if this is going to work or if it’ll blow up in my face, but I have to at least try.
“Do you remember this, my Peach?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“And did you miss it?”
I can’t find the power to answer him, so I nod.
His brow quirks when he recognizes my response. “You do?”
“Maybe not the actual knife,” I clarify with a breath of laughter. “But it definitely had a way of making me feel alive.”
Scraping his thumb along the sharp edge, he replies, “It does. Are you ready to play?”