Page 8 of Delicious Prey

“Um, I’m only eighteen.” I hold up my hand like he’s asked for proof. Deciding this may not be the best idea, I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he squeezes my shoulder tighter and smiles even bigger.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a wink. “It’ll help loosen you up.”

He waves the bartender over and orders a drink for me while I study his profile. His light brown hair is long enough to curl in the back and every once in a while a piece will fall across his forehead, making him brush it away in a practiced move. Light brown eyes meet mine, and I quickly look away. He gives a soft laugh before handing me the freshly made drink. He’s wearing a ring on his left hand, and I recognize it as being from the university I’d been given a scholarship to.

“Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”

I take the glass, but I don’t drink it. Something flashes across his face, but it’s gone before I can decipher it. He nudges my hand.

“Don’t be scared, Lydia. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“What’s your name?”

He gives me a big, charming smile, revealing a perfect set of teeth. “I’m Kyle.”

I nod and look around the crowded club. The dance floor is packed, every table is filled, and by the looks of it, most people are well on their way to getting shit-faced. I suddenly feel very stupid. This is not how I want my first time to go down. I have no idea who this guy is, and the way he keeps trying to get me drunk has alarm bells ringing all through my brain. I’m here. I managed to sneak past whoever the hell is watching me, which means I can just lie about fucking some random dude. I don’t need to actually make the horrible mistake of doing so. God, I’m an idiot.

Shoving the drink back at Kyle, I give him an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Hey, wait.” He grabs my arm, refusing to let me go. “Why are you leaving? You just got here.”

I jerk my arm away. “I changed my mind. I’m leaving.”

He tightens his fingers, and for one horrible moment I’m afraid he’s not going to let go, but then he gets control of himself and lets out a harsh laugh.

“Whatever. Get the fuck out of here.”

Surprised by the hard tone of his voice and the cruel look he’s giving me, I quickly turn and push my way through the crowd, knowing how damn close I just came to making a huge mistake. Once outside, I run down the sidewalk, checking over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure Kyle isn’t following me. It’s no longer Kirill’s man I’m afraid of. I let out a huge sigh of relief when I make it back to my car. On the drive home, I promise myself I won’t ever attempt anything that fucking stupid again. I’ll figure out another way to get rid of Kirill.

I’m convinced I’ve gotten away with my stupid stunt, that is until I open my front door the next morning and find a small box with a note underneath it. The box is wrapped in red paper with a silver string tied around it, ending in a big, loopy bow. Grabbing the box and note, I bring them inside and lean against the kitchen counter. Pulling the string, I slowly untie it and then lift the lid.

“Oh my god!” I yell when I see the finger inside. When I see the part that’s been snipped and notice the white bone surrounded by red flesh, I drop the box and dry heave. The finger rolls across the kitchen floor, and as soon as I see Peanut lunge for it, I let out another yell and dive for him, scooping him into my arms before he can wrap his little teeth around it and take off running, no doubt wanting to bury it with his half-eaten treats.

“Sorry, Peanut,” I whisper and pet his head to calm him down.

My eyes stay locked to the ring that’s now lying on the tiled floor. I recognize the university ring that’s still wrapped around the meaty part of the finger, right below the knuckle. Kyle’s finger is on my goddamn kitchen floor. I’m so frazzled I can barely think. I grab a pair of tongs from the drawer and grip the finger before carefully putting it back in the box and closing the lid. I scoot it to the edge of the counter and reach for the note. My hands are shaking so badly that I have to set the note down so I can read it.

Zaika,

I am disappointed. Is someone testing their boundaries? I’m guessing after seeing the present I left for you, you now know just how serious I am about this. I warned you of this, Lydia, and if you want someone to blame, sweetheart, you can pick that finger up and point it right at your beautiful face. No one is allowed to touch you but me.

Before you get yourself in a huff about my caveman ways, let me first say that you got damn lucky last night. That jackass slipped something in the drink he was so desperate for you to take. Ever heard of date-rape drugs, sweetheart? Do you have any idea how crazy it makes me to know that you were in danger and that I’m stuck in here and can’t do a goddamn thing about it? I’m not there to protect you myself, zaika, so I need you to be extra careful until I can be there with you.

I lift my head and sigh. I knew something felt off about the way he was constantly pushing that drink at me. I glance over at the sealed box, trying to muster up some sympathy because that really must’ve hurt like a bitch, but right now I’m tapped out, so I turn back to the letter instead.

I’m guessing your plan was to just sleep with some random guy. Maybe then I’d leave you alone because clearly I only want you since you’re a virgin? Am I close?

Jesus Christ, is this guy a mind reader?

Let me set your mind at ease, Lydia. I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t thrill me to no end that you’ve never been with a man, that I’m going to get to be your first and only, but I would feel the same way about you even if you’d slept with your whole goddamn high school. I’d kill them all, naturally, but it wouldn’t make me feel any differently about you. Feel better?

I snort out a laugh to my empty kitchen. No, Kirill, that does not make me feel better.

I suggest we put this little slipup behind us. You tested things, and a douchebag lost his finger. Lessons learned all around. Don’t make me teach you another one, sweetheart.

This is my second letter to you, and I’m still waiting for a response. Be a good girl and write me back. I want to know how you’re doing.

Kirill

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