Page 71 of Cry, Little Dove

I release a stuttering sigh. If Cain knows of my desolate past and still wants me… if he knows of my wicked fantasies, too, and he still wants me… what do I have left to fear?

My brows squeeze together as I glance down at Nate.

This isn’t just a gift for me. It isn’t just a test.

Cain is breaking the last barrier between us and he’s letting me see the darkest, most twisted side of him, hoping I’ll still want him. He knows all of my messed up, broken parts, so why shouldn’t I know his? Why shouldn’t I accept them?

My fingers tingle with nerves, but I grip the scalpel tighter. “I don’t know where to start,” I whisper.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll show you.”

Cain’s hand wraps around mine and we hold the scalpel together.

We lower it to Nate’s chest, and the beeping accompanying his pulse gets so fast, I expect him to flatline. I gasp as the tip of the blade slips into Nate’s skin like a hot knife into butter. Blood rises from the puncture.

“Don’t be frightened,” Cain says. “You ain’t doing this alone, Erica. You’ll never have to go through anything alone ever again. I’ll always be here to protect you and guide you. I’ll always be here to love you and cherish you like you deserve.”

He pushes the scalpel in deeper. My heart beats in my throat as we separate layers of flesh and muscle. It’s easy. Too easy. I don’t know why, but I expected more violence. A brutal struggle to wrench open skin and tissue.

Nausea ripples in waves through my stomach, and I want to look away, but I can’t. I don’t actually want to, if I’m honest with myself.

It’s mesmerizing. Vermillion streaks on pale skin.

“Don’t we need gloves?” I ask.

Cain chuckles. “Naw, no need to worry about infections. Before I set him up for you, I ran the full spectrum of tests like I do with all my victims. I have a small lab in the side room because I don’t wanna spread around diseased organs. To my surprise, he’s clean.” His lips brush my cheek. “I wouldn’t risk your health.”

A small laugh escapes me. “How very considerate.”

“I aim to please,” Cain says, amusement lacing his tone.

We drag the scalpel over Nate’s stomach to his pelvis. A long gash gapes down his middle, trickles of crimson turning into a sea of red on the silver table. Tears stream down his cheeks, terror mirrored in his eyes.

A thrill shoots up my spine. I grin. He can feel every cut. The agony must be overwhelming, and I bet Cain has given him something to stop him from passing out.

“What’s it like to know the bastard who ruined you is at your mercy, little dove? Do you feel that raw power, coursing through your bloodstream like a drug?”

I nod, breathless. God, I feel it.

It’s a buzz filling my veins, making me feel taller and stronger. My chest almost bursts with confidence, and I can’t stop smiling.

“Do you remember when I said that in this room, I’m your God?” Cain asks.

“Yes, Dr. Morrow.”

He lets out a guttural moan, pushing his erection against my back and I slide my thighs together as arousal blooms between them.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that.” Cain puts the scalpel on the cart and his hand loosely encases my throat. “I’m still your God, but now, you’re a Goddess, too, and this pathetic little man is my offering to you. He’s a sacrifice to prove my love. You can do anything you want to him.”

“D-don’t you want to donate or sell his organs?”

“No, darlin’. This one’s all yours.”

Butterflies start a riot in my stomach, and I giggle. Nate is mine to torment.

Cain interlaces our fingers and trails them along the edges of the cut, turning the tips red and sticky. “Does this get you wet, little dove? And don’t lie to me. I already know you’re soaked, but I wanna hear it from those sinful lips of yours.”

Cain’s dirty talk is like a magic spell, switching off my rational brain. When I submit to him like a small animal baring its throat to the sharp teeth of a predator, I am free.

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