Page 84 of Pretty Monster

I didn’t think about that. Is that going to set Alex off? Is he going to punish me for talking to Nat about it, or is he going to go straight to the source and hurt Nat for calling the cops? Fuck. I’ve been too scared to ask him about Viper, but if he were to hurt Nat, there’s no going back for me. That’s the one line I won’t allow him to cross. But if she has spoken to the police or the Grim Reapers, Alex is no longer safe.

The Grim Reapers aren’t going to let him get away with the murder of their Vice President. They’ll kill him without a second thought, and it will be brutal, but that’s assuming they get to him before the cops do. Otherwise, he’s about to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

I have to get out of here. I have to speak with Nat. Maybe I could tell her it was all a misunderstanding, that I took off on a spontaneous retreat to a spa in the middle of the night, leaving all my shit behind at her apartment.

She definitely wouldn’t believe me, but at least it would give her reason to pull back. Let’s be honest though, no matter how many times I tell her that Alex and I are together, she’ll never trust him, but she trusts me, and that’s got to count for something. If I tell her that I’m in love with him and explain the whole fear kink, she’ll come around much easier, but she’ll always be wary of him. As for the article stating he killed his mother . . . I have no idea what we’re going to do about that.

Trying to figure out my game plan, I glance around the room. Getting up and running out the door isn’t going to cut it with a machine like Alex. He’s proven time and time again just how strong and fast he is. I don’t stand a chance, but if I could somehow slip out of here silently, I might just make it. But what happens then? He’s going to find me, and he’ll be pissed that I ran, but it’s not as though he doesn’t enjoy the chase. After all, I’ve gotta keep things interesting in a relationship with a serial killer.

Goddamn. What is wrong with me?

Letting out a shaky breath, I spy Alex’s things on his side table, and my brow arches. There are car keys, two phones, a pocketknife, and his wallet. It’s a strange little mix of things to be carrying around, but I could definitely use the car keys and one of those phones. We’re out in suburbia and back home, I would usually just walk everywhere, but getting anywhere from here on foot is going to take forever. Hell, I’m not even sure where here is, but I’m sure the phone will help with that. The second I can get far enough away, I can pull over, figure out where I am, and call Nat to let her know I’m alright. After that, who knows.

With a bunch of old moving boxes piled high on Alex’s side of the bed, I have no choice but to reach over him, and I curse myself for even attempting this. Maybe I would have a better chance if I just take off on foot. Though that begs the question, how did Alex find me in the first place? Does he have a tracker on me?

Being my only chance to make a move without the cuff, I try to gain control of the wild butterflies soaring through the pit of my stomach before pulling myself up onto my knees. I think light thoughts and inch toward him, hoping like fuck he doesn’t wake. Then trying to offset my weight, I grip onto the headboard while slowly lifting my knee up and over his hips.

Think light thoughts. Think light thoughts.

I’m as light as a feather. I’m a soft breeze blowing through the wind. I’m a falling leaf, gently sailing through the air.

My knee comes down gently on his other side, and I find myself holding my breath as I start to lean over, reaching toward the bedside table. I hold my breath, stretching my arm out as far as it’ll go. Just another inch and I’ll be there.

Alex’s body stiffens beneath me and before I can even drop my gaze, his hand is shooting up to my throat and squeezing tight. I suck in a gasp, fear pounding through my veins.

Fuck. I’m an elephant.

His furious gaze locks on mine, and I panic, terrified that this could be the end, but as a wicked smirk cuts across his face, I glance down, finding his pocketknife braced in the palm of my hand, the sharp blade pressed firmly against his throat.

I remain still, unsure where the hell to go from here. Despite the knife in my hand and the damage I could inflict on him, he still clearly has the upper hand. “What are you doing, Kyah?” he questions as I stare down into his dark gaze, the one belonging to the vile stalker who I see each night, not the dazzling man from across the hall.

“It’s been three days, Alex,” I remind him, my brain barely working as I scramble for something to say. “I’m bored of playing your little house bitch. I’m going home.”

He narrows his gaze, quickly assessing the situation like a perfect soldier, and despite the cuff laying freely beside us, he doesn’t make a move to lock me up, knowing damn well that any move I try to make can be easily counteracted. “You’ll leave when I say you can leave.”

Pressing down on the blade, I watch as its sharp tip digs into his flesh. “I’m not fucking around,” I tell him, my heart thundering in my chest. I’ve never held someone’s life in my hands before, and knowing that I have the ability to end him with nothing more than a flick of my wrist is intoxicating.

His gaze darkens, and as he holds my stare, I realize he’s daring me to do it. He wants me to know what it’s like, wants me to feel the power pulsing through my veins just as he does whenever he takes someone’s life, but I could never. Not to him. Because when I look down at him, beneath the eyes of my wicked stalker, is the heart of the man I’ve fallen completely head over heels in love with.

A heavy silence settles in the air between us, creating a thick tension as we fight for dominance. His lips quirk into a twisted grin, and as his hand closes over mine on the blade, I suck in a terrified gasp.

Then just when I think he’s going to turn the blade on me, he presses down harder, the sharp tip piercing his skin before he drags the blade along the length of his throat. My hands start to shake, my eyes widening. The cut isn’t deep enough to cause any real damage, but it sure as hell is enough to bleed.

His blood begins to trickle down the side of his neck, staining the bedsheets and pooling at the base of his throat. The second he releases my hand, I let go of the blade, letting it clatter against the old hardwood floor beside the bed.

His terrifying eyes darken with a fierce desire as he hardens beneath me, and he reaches up, clutches the hem of my tank, and pulls it up over my body until I’m completely bare before him. He takes my hand once again, and as my fingers shake, he swipes them through the blood pooled at his throat.

I don’t say a word, waiting and watching what he’ll do, and as he turns my hand back toward me, I suck in a subtle gasp. He presses my fingertips to my collarbone before slowly dragging them down over the curve of my breast, leaving a trail of smeared blood over my body before lifting my fingers to my mouth and swiping them across my bottom lip.

Alex groans as though the sight of me painted in his blood has him more turned on than ever before, and his hunger for me only works me up. My body trembles, heat flooding to my core as he grinds his thickened cock against me.

I test the limits, reaching back down toward him, my fingers gently brushing through the small pool of blood, only instead of lifting them back to my body, I drag them down over his chest and abs, unsure of why I feel so desperate.

His gaze widens, and in a flash, his big hand locks around the front of my throat. He pulls me down into him, our lips crashing together, and the second his tongue invades my mouth, a wild, desperate frenzy consumes me.

The hunger is intense as I reach down between us, slipping my hand into the waistband of his basketball shorts and curling it around his thick cock. He groans, thrusting up into my grip as I work up and down.

Alex quickly pushes his shorts down past his hips, giving me the freedom to work, but I need so much more, and I need it now. As if sensing the urgency pounding through my chest, he reaches around me, grabs the flimsy material of my panties, and tears them right down the seams.

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