Page 42 of Savage Sin

I finger off the safety and hold the thing like I’ve seen in the movies. I feel silly, not knowing how to handle one of these things. Born into a criminal family doesn’t mean the lifestyle came with instructions.

I’m starting to take it a little personal that he doesn’t look scared. Those blue eyes laser in on me, but the relaxed set of his shoulders and that fucking smirk on his face say he thinks I won’t shoot him.

“I have a gun pointed at your head and you are not even batting a lash. All you mafia types are insane.” I move a step in the opposite direction of him. And then another. “Keys.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me shoot you, Rage.” Just because he’s handsome and looks good in black jeans doesn’t mean anything. He kidnapped me, damn it.

“You’ve made a mess. I’ll have a lot of explaining to do because of you,” he admonishes, and then all that muscle and teeth are prowling in my direction like he’s ready to eat.

“Yeah, to the cops.” I level the barrel at his face, but he keeps coming.

“What the hell are you? Made of steel and ice?”

“I don’t fear death, Persephone. I’ve always welcomed it. If it’s by your hand, even better.” He snatches the weapon from my hand and does something that has the chamber holding the bullets dropping into his hand.

He flips it around and I see why he had no problem with me pointing a gun at him. “Empty.”

I hate the note of humor he uses.

“I see that.” While he is occupied playing with the useless gun, I put more distance between us.

“Where are you running to, Persi, baby?” Humor morphs into curiosity and that hungry sheen in his eyes shines with renewed desire.

I swallow thickly and mentally tick off where I went wrong tonight. Starting with not running the second I got loose.

Part of me knows why and the other part of my brain says I’m stupid to think this man won’t hurt me.

Books and pieces of glass make a fast escape difficult. I’m not some Red Riding Hood looking to get eaten. I clutch at my stitches, swing around and use the distance between us to my advantage. I bolt for another part of the house. Anywhere I can get a door with a lock between me and that predatory grin of his will be a huge win.

I don’t make it.

I am reminded just because he’s shared a scary story of his childhood with me does not make us friends.

I clap and total darkness blankets us. I dodge left and then right. Fingers graze me, but fail.

My captor moves pretty quickly for someone who can’t see any better than I can in the dark. I go left when the dark shadow in front of me tries for the right. I leap, but gravity and his strength work against me.

Fingers wrap around my ankle and I fall over leather. I yelp when he tugs and my shorts ride high as I’m yanked backward. Luther squeaks and I’m suddenly spread across a set of knees. An arm braces over my shoulder blades.

A couple of claps and the light returns. “Ah,hermosa, look at all that skin.”

A callused palm comes down on the fleshy part of my ass cheek and I fight against his hold on me.

“ARGH!” I kick and twist, but the iron grip on me isn’t loosening.

Smack.

I buck against the pain and wish the burn didn’t take over my mind and erase all the anger and fear inside my heart and mind.

Smack.

“ARGH, Rage! What are you doing?” I gasp, pull in a rush of air and breathe out slowly.

Strong, capable fingers sink into firm flesh and the deep tissue massage is gloriously wrong.

A finger under my chin has me lifting my head. His face is so close I can see the dark glitter of intent deep in those ice-colored eyes.

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