Page 76 of Brutal Knight

He studied my eyes, his gaze tracing between them andthroughthem like he could see straight into the heart of my soul.

What he saw must've satisfied him, because, after a long moment, he leaned down, his lips touching mine and I stilled. Not in a kiss. He didn’t kiss me, but gently brushed my lips with his once before pulling back. “Okay.”

Then, sighing, he closed his eyes, falling back to the bed, and snuggled back into me.

His fingers were still on my neck, stroking my skin, caressing it with tenderness and care.

We stayed like that for a long time, with his eyes closed, his caresses soft and sweet, while I stared wordlessly at the ceiling.

My heart was still pounding, my mind racing. Despite my best efforts, I stayed there for minutes, hours? I wasn't sure how long, listening to his soft breathing against my neck, even after he fell asleep.

I couldn't make myself move. I was trapped in that soft, comfortable bed, unable to wrench myself from the pull of him.

I'd fallen in, lost once again in the lure of my savior and protector.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his breathing lulling me back into the space where dreams lived. Maybe I would awake and I'd still be with Antonio, this space only a dreamy figment of my imagination that seemed to come with the peaceful lull of heroin.

Then the sound of a beep made my eyes jolt open. I turned my head, careful not to move too much and wake Knight.

It was his phone, plugged in, on his wooden, hand-carved nightstand, a message flashing on it. I stretched, barely able to grab it before the message disappeared.

It doesn’t matter! I want to see you.

I quickly scanned the top to find the contact, and suddenly the black hole opened up and swallowed me whole.

my heart

The name of the contact.

I'd only seen a flash of it before the message disappeared.

I tapped the screen but it asked for a finger print. I considered opening it with his finger but the fear of waking him kept me from it. Besides, it would probably ask for a passcode even after his fingerprint.

Made men were paranoid like that.

I tossed the phone back and stared back up at the ceiling, the walls around my own heart quickly building back up again.

God, I was so stupid.

I'd done it again, fallen under his spell.

Like a fucking idiot.

Setting my lips in a firm line, I found the energy I needed. I slid out from under his arm, slowly and silently. Without looking back, afraid my heart would break if I did, I left his room, softly closing the door behind me.

I knew what I had to do now.

EIGHTEEN

age17

It had never been so miserable in all of Cuba.

Not the day I'd gotten off the plane from Russia, with no friends or family; the landscape and language, foreign and strange.

Nor the day Knight broke my heart, telling me he would never marry.

Not even the daythat manarrived at my house, taking my innocence and virginity in one swoop.

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