Page 25 of Mine

“You are a beautiful young woman, Sara,” I said. My hand moved alongside her jawline, memorizing the softness of her skin. Her eyes followed my fingers as they moved. “A very interesting young woman. An aspiring actress. Trying to get your big break, yes? And somehow you managed to end up here.”

“What are you doing?” she asked. Her voice trembled.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t kill you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I smiled.

“You know something, Sara?”

“Let me go,” she whispered. In her eyes I could tell she was beginning to understand that she wasn’t getting out of this room.

“I’ve never made anyone feel good before. I always torture them.”

She stared at me wordlessly. I ran my fingers through her hair, spreading the long dark locks over the couch. Her hair was the same shade of brown as the leather.

“Like your fake husband in the other room there,” I said. “I woke him up before beginning to cut. Then I cut right along the hairline as he screamed and screamed. You didn’t wake up. I peeled his skin back with forceps as he screamed.”

Her eyes watered, and I could see fear creeping into her.

“He deserved every last little bit of torture,” I said. “And that wasn’t even the last bit! Oh, no. That was only the beginning. He’s still alive.”

A tear ran down her cheek. I reached down and wiped it away with my thumb.

“Don’t worry, beautiful Sara. You’re not like him, are you?”

She shook her head tightly, the tears starting to come heavily now.

“Please—”

“Don’t ask me again to let you go. I won’t. But I won’t torture you like that, either. Not if you’re not a bad person. You’re not a bad person, are you?”

“No.” Her voice was a crack in the dark air of the library.

“Then I won’t hurt you. But you know something, Sara? It’s true. I’ve never made anyone feel good—reallygood—before.”

My hands moved slowly behind her back to unclasp her dress.

“You can feel everything?” I asked.

“Rien—”

“Good. Then this should be very,veryfun.”

Sara

I gaped as Rien’s hands moved around underneath my back. I hadn’t lied—I could feel every touch of his.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Having a bit of fun.”

He unzipped the back of my dress. His hands moved up and slid my shoulder straps down.

“No,” I said, unwilling to believe that this was happening. “No. Rien.”

He leaned forward and kissed me on my bare neck. His lips burned my skin with heat. Despite myself, I felt my body respond to his touch. His hand moved down over my breasts, my stomach, and came to rest on my hip. He clasped me there and kissed me lightly on the underside of my chin.

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