Page 48 of Brutal Knight

The pain of the knife slicing through the skin of my thumb made me smile, the rage still billowing in my chest. The man finally noticed me, and he faltered, coming to a stop.

I didn’t move.

His eyes grew wide and even in the darkness, I could sense the panic in his gaze.

I curled my lips upwards in a slow smirk and was pleased to smell the faint scent of sweat and piss. I eyed him lazily, my gaze making its way downward to his crotch.

In the yellow streetlamp, I could see the small spot of wetness there and stared long enough to let him know that I’d seen it.

After a moment, I looked away, letting him have a few more minutes of his precious life. My focus now was Tatiana. I’d committed his face to memory and would deal with him later. If he was smart, the man would leave Cuba and never return.

He ran off quickly and I let him go, instead, walking to the side of the apartment.

The ribbon was gone, and my chest hallowed out inside. I’d failed her.

Growling, I put my hands on the windowsill and easily climbed in.

The room was still dark but I could see the outline of her form laying in her bed. Her sheets were thrown into a pile in the corner, and the smell of blood and sex filled the room. She had covered herself with her thin, white, lace blanket.

I didn't speak at first and she made no move to acknowledge me.

Finally, she spoke. "Go away." Her voice was mumbled and slurred.

Eyes furrowing, I scowled. Something wasn’t right. Something besides the fact that she’d been violated in the worst way. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, and I strode forward, yanking off her blanket. She rolled onto her back, blinking up at me lazily. “Hello, Knight.” Her lips were parted, her eyes hooded. “Come to save me?”

“What did they do?”

Her gaze drifted behind me, eyes glazing over, her face going slack. I grabbed her arms, yanking them towards my face so I could see them better in the moon-lit room. She didn’t fight me as I scoured her skin, finally noticing a small pin prick of blood.

Rage seared my insides, making my stomach burn and my insides shake.I was going to kill them.I showed it to her. “Did your parents do this?” She didn’t answer. “Did they give you heroin?”

“La cava blanca,” she sighed. “I fought them. My papa held me down while my mom gave it to me."

All I saw was red.

A knife. A gun to the head. Rope around their neck.

No. I would do it with my own hands, watching the life drain from their eyes.

They were going to die, and I would be the one to do it.

Releasing her softly, I stood over her, heaving, clenching and unclenching my hands.

For some reason, Tatiana defended her parents, no matter what they did to her. So I needed to do it right now, before she came off her high. Before she could stop me.

It took me several heartbeats to calm down enough to slide in next to her under the blanket.

Tatiana needed me right now, even if she didn’t know it. I would stay long enough tonight to be here when she came off her high, to wipe away her tears and kiss away her pain.

Then I would take care of her parents and that man later.

Pulling her to my chest, I nestled my face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.

I hated myself in that moment.

Hated that I hadn't saved her from this situation, that I hadn't been here for her when she needed me.

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