by Dahlia Kent
His gaze met mine before it dipped. It lingered on my face where there was probably a red mark from where Robert slapped me. His gaze dropped to my neck where the knife edge hovered. When our gazes met again, dark fury swirled in his hazel eyes and his mouth was a hard line of displeasure.
“Open your jacket and empty your pockets,” Robert spat. “Hurry up before anybody sees you.”
Nicholas set the gym bag down beside him and silently did as Robert ordered, revealing an empty waistband and pockets. The only thing extra on him was his phone.
A sinking feeling filled my chest—he hadn’t brought a gun.
Maybe he’s hidden one in the gym bag.
“Open the bag,” Robert ordered. Nicholas picked up the bag, opening it to show the stacks of cash inside.
My god. It was so much money. Where did he get that on such short notice? It was disconcerting he was willing to part with all of that to keep me safe.
Meanwhile, my own husband had a knife pressed to my neck.
A soft groan of pleasure escaped Robert. “Good. Give it to me and get lost.”
Nicholas zipped the bag shut but didn’t hand it over.
“Let Grace go first.”
Robert chuckled darkly. “I guess we’re at a standstill then. You have something I want and I have something you want. Neither of us want to give over what we have first.”
“I don’t care about the money. I care about Grace.”
“Then give me the fucking money and I’ll let her go!”
“I’m not foolish. The instant I give you the money, you’re going to cut her throat.” Nicholas stepped closer and Robert shuffled back one step. “How about this, Mr. Kennedy? How about we play another game of poker? If I win, you let Grace go free, alive. And if you win, I’ll give you another one hundred thousand dollars.”
A short silence passed before Robert responded.
“All right.” Of course he’d agree at the promise of more money. He stepped back, taking me with him. “Come in and close the door.”
Nicholas entered the apartment, his gaze holding mine. His movements were measured and robotic as he shut the door and entered forward while Robert walked us backward.
What was he planning to do?
“You can release her now. It’s not necessary to keep the knife to her neck.” His features darkened. “She is your wife, Mr. Kennedy. You should remember that.”
Robert’s grip on me tightened, the contempt in his voice loud when he spoke.
“She stopped being my wife the day you stuck your dick in her.”
Nicholas’ nostrils flared. “Where will we play the game?”
“In my office.”
Robert pulled me backward to the office and Nicholas followed us. It was a tight fit for us to manoeuvre around Robert’s desk, and the half-empty decanter of Scotch on the surface jostled when my hip struck the edge.
Finally, Robert’s hold on me slackened. He released me entirely but remained close.
“Get the cards from the top drawer, Grace.”
Slowly, I bent and opened the drawer as my mind raced with desperation. This was my chance. Now that Nicholas was here, it would be two against one.
How do I get that knife out of his hand?
That was all I needed. Once he was disarmed, he’d be powerless and this would all be over.
My heart thudding hard and quick, I reached into the drawer and my fingers closed around the deck of cards immediately. But instead of taking it out, I pretended to search around for it while tucking it out of sight.
This went on for several tense seconds until Robert grew impatient and yanked me out of the way.
“Christ, you’re useless. Let me do it.”
At the same time he ducked and started to look for the cards, my eyes landed on the decanter.
My heart thundering in my ears, I didn’t hesitate.
I grasped the neck of the solid, square bottle, my fingers tight around the cool glass. Raising it high, I whacked it on the back of Robert’s head as hard as I could.
Robert grunted in pain and crumpled to his knees, smacking his forehead against the desk. His rage-filled eyes were glassy and unfocused as his body started to slump sideways.
The knife slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
“You fucking bitch,” he slurred as I dove for the knife.
Kill him.
My bottled fury uncorked.
In that brief moment as my hand arced into the air, I could no longer pretend and forget.
I remembered the way I stood over my dead mother.
I remembered the hard, plastic barrel of the syringe digging into my palm, just the way the knife pressed into my skin.
She was supposed to love me.
He was supposed to love me.
She was supposed to protect me from the bad.
He was supposed to protect me from the bad.
And they both failed.
And my mother paid for it.
And now the man I used to call my husband would pay for it too.
His hands trembled as he raised them in a silent plea for mercy.
But as I brought the knife down to stab Robert in the neck, Nicholas seized my hand.
“No.” He wrapped his free hand around my waist and pulled me away from Robert. Then he pried the knife out of my tightly clenched fingers, his eyes hard and glittering with malevolence. “Leave the room and shut the door.”
I shook my head, a shuddery breath escaping me. I quelled the feeling of being cheated out of doing what needed to be done.
“I’m staying.”
Robert struggled to get up but Nicholas moved past me and squatted over Robert, pointing the knife in his face.
Robert froze, his teary eyes wide with terror. His chin quivering.
He had the strength and courage to insult me, hurt me, and attempt to rape me.
Faced with someone bigger and badder than him, he was a weak, little coward.
“Don’t kill me…” He sobbed out, his words still slurred. “Grace… help me… help—”
“You should have taken the money and run.” Nicholas’ voice had no sympathy, and his hand didn’t hesitate as he slashed the knife across Robert’s neck.
His body shaking, Robert let out choked, gurgling gasps then gradually went still and silent.
In the quiet as blood and life left Robert’s body, I searched inside myself for remorse that I participated in his death.
I found none.
All I felt was indifference.
Robert had been a problem.
Contrary to my long-held beliefs—some problems you couldn’t just pretend they didn’t exist or forget about them.
They needed to be altered. They needed to be fixed.
Together, Nicholas and I had applied the best solution.
Twenty One
—
Swaddled in a thick, white robe, I stared at my reflection in Nicholas’ bathroom mirror.
Last night, my marriage ended.
While a part of me would have preferred a less tragic termination, the dark, vengeful part of me was satisfied Robert got what he deserved.
He was dead.
Gone forever.
He could never betray me or hurt me again.
A knock on the door startled me.
“Grace?” came Nicholas’ muffled voice.
I opened the door and met his gaze. His hair was damp like mine. Maybe he’d just taken a shower too.
He was casually dressed in a white, plain t-shirt and jeans. Any innocent person who saw him now would never suspect he was capable of slitting a man’s throat without hesitation.
“Want something to eat?”
I nodded. “Coffee and French toast.”
“Eggs too?”
“I don’t like eggs.”
He smiled. “But you like French toast?”
“It’s different.” I smiled back. “I don’t mind it as an ingredient, but I don’t like eggs
alone. It makes me queasy.”
My smile dimmed. It was disconcerting how quickly life moved on. Robert was dead. Meanwhile, I was alive and able to look forward to my next meal.
Nicholas must have noticed my shift in mood because he moved closer, concern on his face.
“Are you OK?”
“Last night… you said you would take care of the body—of him. What did you do?”
A brief pause then Nicholas spoke, his voice devoid of emotion.
“I had someone handle it. Your apartment was cleaned too.”
Even if they ripped up the floors and repainted the entire apartment, I could never live there again knowing what had happened.
And what did ‘handling’ entail? Did I want to know the details? Did I want that image in my head? It was bad enough that I saw Robert’s blood staining the beige carpet dark red whenever I closed my eyes.
“People are going to ask questions. I don’t know how I’m going to explain his disappearance.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Nicholas caressed my cheek with his thumb and forefinger, the action gentle and intimate. “You went through a lot. We’ll come up with a plan later.”
Reassured by his confident tone, I nodded. I looked up at him and felt something inside me stir and shift. It was ironic how I believed he was a monster the first time I saw him. I’d viewed him as an evil force bent on destroying my blissful life.
Instead, he’d turned out to be my saviour.
Nicholas had rescued me from a dangerous, vindictive man, and he’d dragged me out of a life of lying to myself.
Because I was done being that foolish woman who preferred to keep her head in the sand than face the ugly truths.
“What you saw… does it bother you?”
“It doesn’t.” I breathed deep and decided to take my first step toward the new me. The one that acknowledged the ugly truths by sharing the long-held secret I’d never told anyone. “Robert isn’t the first person close to me I watched die. My mother was a junkie who was more often high than sober. I was fed up of being used by the men she brought home.” I licked my lips and looked at the floor as I revealed my dark past to the only one who I would ever tell. The only one who could understand. “I killed my mother. One night, when I was fifteen and she was in the middle of a fix, I filled up her needle and gave her more heroin so it would look like she’d overdosed on her own.” Then I raised my gaze to meet his. “Protecting me from stabbing Robert last night was pointless. I already have blood on my hands. And you were right. I am a bad person.”
“You say that like if it’s something I should hate about you.” He cupped my face. “I don’t. I like these two disparate sides of you. Your beautiful, innocent facade that can fool others easily and hides the darkness inside you. You had a hard life growing up and it took strength to do what you did to survive.” He pulled me closer and lowered his voice. “I don’t just want to fuck you. I want you in my world, Grace. But my world is bad, and to exist in the bad, the bad has to exist inside you too.”
He dipped his head and kissed me. I sank into him, kissing him back, welcoming his strong arms around me.
Our kiss deepened and he opened my robe, sliding it off my body. His hands slid down my skin, lighting a fiery trail wherever he touched.
I sighed into his mouth and he broke our kiss to press his lips down my neck. I held him to me, my eyes closed tight as I revelled in his touch and kisses.
He lifted me up in his arms and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I held his face and kissed him again as he carried me to the guest bed I’d slept in last night. He laid me down then stood, staring at me hungrily as he removed his clothes.
My gaze swept over his powerful, toned body, and the ache between my legs grew. I wanted him desperately. Needed him inside me. He climbed on top of me, weighing me down into the soft mattress with his hard body.
“Fuck me, Nick.”
He groaned and nuzzled my neck.
“You don’t know how long I wanted to hear you say that.”
He moved between my legs, his hard length pressing into me. I moaned and arched my back, my pussy squeezing him, pulling as much of him into me as I could bear.
His hands and lips lavished me with attention as he fucked me. His slow, hard thrusts pushed whimpers from me. Each stroke sent me closer to the edge until I fell over gasping his name.
He pulled out of me and moved down my body, feathering kisses all over my chest. His hot mouth covered my nipple and sucked it. He paid similar attention to the next one, then continued down to graze his face along the insides of my thighs.
My body tightened in anticipation. When his mouth tasted me, I raised my hips and moaned in satisfaction. He pulled away and laid on his back, tugging me on top of him. Cupping my ass, he guided me higher so I could sit on his face, my pussy pressed against his greedy mouth.
His hands locked over my thighs straddling his face, his slippery tongue moved back and forth along my slit. He covered my clit with his mouth and sucked. Panting, I dug my fingers into the damp curls of his hair. I rocked my hips, grinding my pussy against his lips. Another orgasm built rapidly inside me. I reached a hand up to pinch and twirl my nipple to carry me quicker to the finish line.
“Nick...” I gasped out.
My body went rigid. I shook on him, closing my eyes and welcoming my release. I shivered, heat pulsing between my legs and rolling through my body.
Even though my limbs were shaky, I moved down his body until my face was aligned with his. I kissed him deep again, tasting myself on his lips. I reached down between us and guided his hard, hot flesh against my pussy. I rubbed it back and forth, relishing the way he groaned, bucked his hips and hugged me tighter to him.
It felt so good, so right when I sank onto him. We groaned together as my pussy claimed every hard inch of him. I sat up and rocked on him slowly at first. His hands gripped my hips and he thrust up into me while I bounced on him.
He rolled us so he was on top of me and pushed my legs back and wider. He pounded into me, harder, faster, and I took it all.
Loved it all.
Wanted more of him to the point that it terrified me.
“Fuck… Grace…” I felt him swelling. His body stiffened as he came inside me. I moaned, the feeling of him pulling me to climax as well.
He released my legs and sagged on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me.
Despite the role he played in my life, I felt settled.
Contented.
Right here in his arms was where I was supposed to be.
I was his kindred spirit, he’d said.
He was mine too.
We belonged with each other in the bad.
Because we were the demons.
And there was only peace when we existed together in our sweet torment.
—
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About the Author
Dahlia Kent lives in Toronto, Canada with her SO and two adorable cats. She writes scorching, thrilling, suspenseful stories. Her books feature dangerous, commanding men and strong, feisty women finding love and lust in the darkness.
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