Page 46 of Resurrect Me

The knife inches closer, and Declan slides the flat part of the blade down my cheek. I scream again. Curse his name. I’m sure he knows what I’m saying, even from behind the tape. The icy cold metal glides over my jawline, and Declan’s eyes focus in on mine as he holds the tip of the blade to my throat.

“See? This is fun, isn’t it?”

In one swift motion, the mother fucker rips the duct tape from my mouth, peeling back my skin with it. I yelp in pain.

“You mother fucker!” I bellow. “Let me go! I swear to God, I will kill you.”

“Kill me? Ha!” He shouts. “I will put a ball gag in your mouth, Tacy, if you don’t shut the fuck up.” There’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Wild. Untethered. Homicidal. I grit my teeth and seal my lips.

“Fine,” I stammer. “I just want to know…why are you doing this, Dee?”

He shakes his head as he paces in front of me. The knife gripped at his side. He’s wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. But his shirt is untucked and there’s a spatter of blood on the shoulder. Whose blood is it?

I’m panting and trying to catch my breath. My heart’s beating a hundred fifty per minute. I’m calculating how I can get free from this chair. What I can use in the kitchen to knock him out. Can I get to my phone? No, it’s in the bedroom. Can I get to the knives on the counter? I look over Declan’s shoulder and realize the knife block is empty. The dickwad removed all the weapons in the vicinity. Of course he did.

“Many reasons, Tacy,” he walks back and forth. Back and forth. Huffing and growling like a tied-up animal. “Let’s start with the fact that you’re a fucking cock tease. Shall we? You’ve been throwing your ass around in front of me since Sol was alive. Flaunting yourself constantly. Letting your tits hang out, showing off your ass every chance you got. You and I both know we have sexual chemistry. You’ve wanted to fuck me since we met. And after Sol died, I thought for sure we’d get together. You were supposed to be my friend.”

“So, which is it, Declan? Are we supposed to be friends or fuck buddies? Figure it the fuck out.”

Declan freezes in his tracks and turns towards me. He bends over and his nose nearly touches mine. “Why not both?”

I flinch, then laugh, one of those deep belly laughs. The audacity of this asshole.

“Okay, you said there are multiple reasons, Declan. Why else have you tied me up in my own fucking house and flaunted your knife around in front of me as if it were your second dick?”

He leans close again and sniffs my hair. “Secondly, you’re too meddlesome, Tacy. And someone needs to teach you a lesson.”

“Meddlesome? Are you a fucking old lady?” Now I’m taunting him, but I don’t care at this point.

If I can get him to engage physically with me, maybe I can wrestle the knife from his hand. It’s a long shot, and Declan’s much bigger and stronger than me. But it’s worth a try. The more I rile him up, the more likely he’ll be to attack. “You always were such a fucking twat. Spineless pussy.”

He backhands me across the cheek. A burning pain blurs my vision again, and I taste blood. Okay, so it’s working. But I need him to get even closer to me.

“You’ve dug yourself a grave. You’ve gotten yourself into things you have no idea how dangerous they are. I tried to keep you out of it, but you kept pushing. I tried to protect you, Tace, but you are just like him.”

“Like who?”

“Your dead husband,” he smirks. “And pretty soon, you’ll be even more like him. You’ll be in the grave next to him. Fucking worm food.”

“You’re not going to kill me, Declan. You and I both know that,” I swallow hard. “So, why are you actually here? You think this is a game or something? You know…I do enjoy being tied up. And I don’t mind being beaten either.”

A wave of violence flashes over Declan Harvey, the tension building to a fever pitch. I know he wants to kill me. But there’s probably other things he wants first. Well…he can try, but he’ll never get to fuck me. I’ll bite off his dick before he can put it in me.

“You’re fucking psychotic,” he says and chuckles wildly. He begins to pace again. This time he walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, briefly. But returns in seconds. Now his breathing is more rapid, the veins in his neck popping. His free fist is balled up at his side.

“Are you working up the balls to kill me or what? Get it over with, Dee!” I shout and brace for another strike. He growls at me, winds up, and his fist meets my temple and rocks me back in the chair, almost knocking me to the floor again. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or my hatred for him, but it doesn’t knock me out. My eye begins to swell, partially blocking my vision, and more of that metallic liquid floods my taste buds. My lip smarts and my entire face feels like it has its own heartbeat. I wonder how many times this mother fucker plans on hitting me before he finally does the deed.

“What did you use to knock me out, Dee? Was it Duselizab? Did you sprinkle a little bit on the box at the front door or what?” I laugh as I lick the blood off my top lip. This is fun. Riling up this psychopath. What he doesn’t realize is, I’m just as fucked up as he is. Just in a different way. And I’m not afraid to kill.

“Something like that,” he mutters and slides a phone out his back pocket. Nice. He has a phone. I can use that.

He types a text message then repockets it and glares at me. His jaw tenses as he looks at the clock on the wall. “I’m done answering your questions. Now, you’ll answer mine, or you’ll answer to my knife.”

He approaches me, leans over, and shines the knife in my face again. “Okay, I get it. You have a knife. Good for fucking you. You don’t need to threaten me with it, I’ll answer your questions.”

I smell expensive cologne on him…and the faint smell of chemicals. Or is that the smell of bleach? No. Medication? The aroma reminds me of the way the med room smells at the hospital. A sterile environment in which a medication was just spilled on the floor. I grit my teeth again and steel myself. Waiting for the first question.

I nod. “Go on. I’m waiting.”

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