Page 43 of Sin Like the Devil

Casting Rick’s still-slumped form a disdainful look, Xander lowers his voice. “As enjoyable as watching you bleed is, I don’t take too kindly to others playing with my toys.”

Wiping my split lip with the back of my hand, I narrow my eyes in challenge. Xander stares back for several seconds like he’s waiting for me to cower and obey. Not this time. When I don’t back down, he gestures for me to go ahead.

“But by all means.”

“That’s what I thought,” I mumble.

Turning, I find Rick still on the ground, struggling to catch his breath. Xander may not look the part, but I know how strong he is. Even if he feels no need to advertise it like other men do, he could’ve broken Rick’s back without a smidge of remorse.

Conscious of the iceman himself still watching, I finish pulling my switchblade from its hiding place and flick out the knife. It’s sharp. Glinting. Begging for a drop of blood to embellish its metallic surface. Rick’s eyes widen as he sees me approach.

“Listen, Rip.”

“So where do I belong?” I gesture wildly with the blade. “What was it, hmm? On my back?”

“You can’t do this to me!”

With a cursory glance around, I note the nearby CCTV camera. We’re just out of shot in my usual delivery spot. No one will ever know if I rough him up, especially if I can scare Rick enough to keep his mouth shut.

I place a foot either side of his waist. “No one is coming to save you.”

When he begins to tremble in fear at the blade moving ever closer to him, I lift a foot and smash it down on his face. The satisfying crunch of his nose smashing beneath my shoe is truly a glorious thing.

Blood is a riotous explosion pouring from his busted nose as I peer down at him. Still, it doesn’t sate me. I usually tame this side of myself with the violent outpouring of artistic rage that I inflict upon my canvases. But not today.

Knees bending, I hover over his torso, dragging the sharpened tip of my blade along his clavicle. His t-shirt is flecked with blood beneath the grass stains and mud from his fall. Digging a little deeper, I slice into his skin.

“The only one who needs to learn respect here is you,” I whisper sweetly. “You’ve forgotten who’s in charge here.”

“That’s what y-you th-think,” he splutters. “You’re d-deluded, Ripley.”

Digging it in deeper, I watch his eyes blow wide with pain. “Want to say that again?”

“This… isn’t your institute. You’re just an experiment… Fuck!” He yelps in pain. “Just like the rest of us.”

Hearing Xander shift on his feet behind me, I refuse to let even a crack of concern for Rick’s words show. I’m more than that. Harrowdean needs me. I’m valued here. Important. In control. They’d never successfully run their program without me.

Would they?

“You’re… replaceable,” Rick spits out. “We all are.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rick.”

“No. Like you, I also have nothing to lose.” He smiles through the blood running down his chin.

Repositioning my grip on the switchblade, I stab it down into the earth an inch away from his head. He flinches, his eyes darting to the cool kiss of steel so close to impaling his face.

“Stay away from my business, and keep your mouth shut. Or next time, I won’t miss. Understood?”

“It’s only a matter of time until this whole thing is exposed to the world.” His teeth are stained bright-red. “Priory Lane’s already under investigation. Who will they blame for Harrowdean?”

I hang over him. “Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

“The corporate masks hiding behind their fancy lawyers, or the unhinged nutcase on the ground, peddling drugs for profit?”

Patience expired, I yank the knife from the ground and raise it above my head. Rick yells as it swooshes towards him, burying handle-deep in the soft flesh of his thigh.

“I am not deluded,” I hiss in his face as his screams reach a fever pitch. “This is my kingdom, my institute, and you belong to me.”

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