Page 7 of Drama Queen

Three

ECHO

My armsache where that blonde asshole hung my wrists to some glorified meat hook. My feet barely touch the ground, and the pins and needles are starting to become a real pain in my ass. My shoes have gone and I swear to God, if they’re ruined, someone is going to lose a fucking hand.

IknewI shouldn’t have gone out, shouldn’t have left my pretty little gilded cage, but I was climbing the walls. All my life I’ve been hidden away, like some dirty little secret, and my dad wasn’t even in the country. I’d been shipped off to some country manor, in the middle of fucking nowhere, left to rot away from the Family Business. I’m not stupid. I know what my father and brothers get up to, and part of me understands why I’ve been kept away, but another part really wishes I could join in.

It’s like an urge. An impulse. A sheer fuckingneedto cause damage and drama. Like breaking that guy’s nose. I really should have thought about that before swinging. I certainly wouldn’t be hung from a meat hook if I had.

But what can you do? Hindsight really is a merciless bitch.

The groan of a metal door sounds behind me, and footsteps reverberate off the concrete floor. I can’t see much, thanks to thesingle shaft of light I’m suspended in. Beyond that are shadows and loose shapes that I’d really rather not have clarity over.

The expensive sounding shoes stop directly behind me, and I can feel him at my back. I take a deep breath through my nose, since the tape still covers my mouth, and count to ten. Not that it does anything to calm my heart down. The thing is going like the clappers.

“I should be pissed you broke my nose.”

His voice is just as smoky as I remember. A deep rumble that has my core clenching. I should be terrified, but there must be something wrong with me because I’m the complete opposite.

“But no one has ever broken my nose before.” He steps around me, walking until he faces me but stays just beyond the light. “It’s actually kind of amusing.”

Well whoop-de-fucking-do. Aren’t I the lucky one? Let me go and shout it from the rooftops. Oh. Wait. I can’t do that because someone’s got megagged and hung from the fucking ceiling!

“Stare daggers at me all you want, princess. You’re staying there until I decide what to do with you.”

He takes a step towards me, and I get another eyeful of my handiwork. Black circles sit beneath his eyes and a little white steri-strip sits on the bridge of his nose.

The twins would be proud of me. They had a real penchant and love of violence too.

The guy’s still as handsome as fuck, maybe even more so now he’s a little damaged. He’s in a fresh white shirt, sleeves rolled up revealing drool-worthy forearms. Dark lines and shapes cover his skin and I’m curious to know what tattoos he’s got. If his forearms are covered, I bet he’s got more ink hidden beneath that expensive white cotton.

His face is sharp with a square jaw and angled cheekbones but there’s an amusement there that wasn’t in his expressionwhen we first met. Which makes him more attractive.Fucking bastard.

I wonder what he’s like in bed.

Feral, probably, judging by the wicked gleam in his eye.

I’d bet he’d pound me into the mattress and leave my body broken and ruined for other men.

My core clenches at the thought and he must see something in my face because he steps even closer. So close, I can almost feel his chest against my rapidly hardening nipples.

He reaches his hand out and brushes a lock of my hair away from my face. “You don’t look like your father. It’s why I didn’t recognise you.”

His finger traces the curve of my ear and trails down my neck, stopping over my pulse point.

A hum that sounds more like a moan, flitters through the room.

“Your heart is racing, princess.”

Yeah, I fucking know.

“Are you scared?” he asks, an excited thrum vibrating through his words. He leans closer, his mouth inches from the tape across mine, and he drops his voice to a dark whisper. “Or are you so turned on you’d let me finger fuck your wet cunt right now.”

I can’t help it. The moan escapes before I can will it back down to the hidden depths from where it came.

He brushes his nose along my cheekbone, and I try to pull away but there’s not really anywhere to go when you can’t move far.

“Ah, ah,” he says as he wraps his large hand around my throat, holding me in place. “There’s no escape for you.”

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