Page 12 of That Sik Luv

Jacob rushes me, gripping the back of my neck to push me against the cold metal of the shelf as his body presses against mine.

I cry out in terror, but there’s no one back here to hear me.

He slaps his palm over my face, slamming the side of my head against the shelf so hard books fall around us.

“Shut up, Briony! I’m not supposed to damage your face, but I will if you give me a reason to,” he growls into my ear.

My eyes sting with tears as I try to understand the meaning of the words he spewed. My fingers grasp the edge of the shelf, feeling for something, anything, to use.

A doll with a stain. A toy with imperfections. A woman with a weapon.A message.

A warning.

I squeeze my thighs together, feeling the edge of the handle between them, tucked into the edge of my thigh-high tights.

Not a threat.

But a test from the man who’s taken a liking to calling himself my God.

Chapter seven

Lambs to the Slaughter

Isitattheback of the dark office, kicking one of my boots up on the desks in the corner, legs spread wide as I sit back in the chair, running a finger over my mask-covered lips.

Hardening at the sound of her breathy screams beneath the crack of the door, I lick my teeth beneath my mask, running my hand over the rock forming down my thigh at the idea of her helplessness. I gaze at the wooden door with hooded eyes, awaiting the results.

She’s either going to die as the little lamb of her own naivety, or she’s going to morph into everything I hoped she could.

I’ve given her the olive branch. Let’s just see how smart my little doll really is.

A few seconds of silence pass, and I roll my eyes. If a guy as stupid as Jacob Erdman actually finds a way to take my fun away from me, I’ll do worse than what I had already planned.

I drop my heavy boot to the floor, about to stand, when the handle to the door slowly twists open. Watching with delightful humor, I see Jacob’s back slowly exiting the room, his hands raised before him. My little doll holds the knife to his throat, pointing straight at him with a strong arm and a darkened fire in her heated gaze as she backs him away from her.

She’s got some fire in her. That passion and grit beneath the good girl facade that aches for violence. It’s what I need to see if she stands a chance at surviving. There’s nothing I love more than a good fight in a woman.

My jaw flexes, and something of a growl leaves my throat as I stand.

“Just...just take it easy now. I was just messing with you. He said...just messing with you,” he stutters, the fear in his tone evident.

As they make it out of the room, I eye her white button-up shirt, ripped open with a white lacy bra beneath it. One of her tights is sitting lower on her exposed thigh. He touched her.

He touched her.

Touched her.

My nostrils flare beneath the black ski mask, my back teeth grinding together. I can’t yet decide if the idea turns me on or enrages me.

Without a second thought, I silently approach Jacob from behind. Briony’s eyes widen, finally connecting with mine, seeing me appear from the darkness. I stare at her, absorbing that lively look about her now that she’s actually conscious in my presence. Her beautiful blues narrow on me, her brows lowering, as she looks at me almost confused.

Before he even knows I’m there, I wrap a single hand around his neck. He whimpers in shock, his eyes darting wildly as he looks back at her for help. I walk him to a nearby desk in the dark office as he thrashes in fear. Throwing his head against the surface, I pin his weak, whining ass to the wood by his neck, sending pens and papers flying onto the floor near my boots.

“I’ll take it from here, darling,” I murmur beneath the mask.

Her lips part as she nervously glances at Jacob, then back at me, panting as she points the knife at us. I tip my head as she stands there, staring at me.

Those plump, wet lips. That delicate little neck covered in lies. I watch her breasts rise and fall beneath the opened shirt as she keeps the knife on me, unsure of whom to trust. Unknowing of the man before her.

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