Page 57 of Seven+Four

“You’re mine, Sari.” I hear his words just as I’m about to pass the threshold. “You can’t run away from me. Just accept it,” he states ominously just before the shooting starts.

I flee to the second floor, lock the door to the bedroom behind me, and then the bathroom door as well.

I’m his? What does that mean? Like a shiny toy sitting on a shelf to be gazed at but not played with? I’ve never felt like this before with Uri, like I’m trapped. He was the one who showed me I could choose my own path. He encouraged me to pursue what I liked.

I drop the sweater on the floor as my eyes find my reflection in the mirror. Lips chapped, disheveled hair, grim gaze. I’m sticky and exhausted. My body feels sated while my head can’t stop spinning with thoughts. I gaze at the redness his slaps left on my side, and when I shift a little bit to the right, I notice the fingerprints on my ass cheeks where his fingers gripped me.

Tears fall down as pleasure and pain overtake me. Because I love the sight of his marks on me, and at the same time, I wish they weren’t there.

When did I start to associate this confusing, unbearable, miserable feeling with Uri?

Maybe it’s true that there’s a moment for two souls. A single, defining moment when they touch fire and fuse together, or burn apart and turn everything to ashes.

Am I going to survive the flames?

After a long shower, I fall asleep in the big bed without unlocking the bedroom door. In my dreams, though, I feel a warm body possessively embrace me. Gentle lips touch my head and my bleeding heart.

seven

URIEL

I grunt and get more comfortable on the solarium’s sofa. My dreads are still damp from the two-hour swim I had in the indoor pool. The physical exertion didn’t help with my restlessness. Nor the time spent taking apart and cleaning some of my rifles.

I know what I need; I already booked a room at Madame Claudette’s for tonight.

I lift my phone and check Sari’s bracelet app. His heart rate is fine and temperature as well. I look at his position again. His pin is still at Rague’s house. One of the triplets, Ren, came early this morning to pick him up. They’ll help Sully pack for college. It was my turn to help Gabe dispose of his donor, so I hired two bodyguards to follow them. This stalker problem needs to be resolved. I just finished talking to Michael. The guard working at Bear-Stone Labs who was bribed to sneak the package inside the building was killed.

Michael—with the medical examiner—found a small needle mark behind his left ear and a trace of a muscle relaxant called succinylcholine in the guard’s blood. A smart choice since it is not normally tested for in toxicology screens. In higher doses, it can paralyze the entire breathing apparatus, and the victim suffocates to death—which is what happened to the guard.

Rami checked the diner’s CCTV. A person entered the bathroom thirty seconds after the guard went in. Unfortunately there’re no cameras inside, but after fifteen seconds, the same person came out wearing a long coat and a knitted cap, keeping their face down. They are average height and build, we can’t discern their gender, the poor quality of the footage doesn’t help. Serena followed them outside, but they disappeared in the crowded streets of downtown Chicago.

This is more serious than I anticipated. This sicko is ready to do whatever it takes to reach Sari. It’s escalating quickly, and I don’t like the direction this fucker is taking us. He needs to be stopped.

Albert E. moves in his sleep on top of my belly while I’m checking the stock market. I stopped by his room earlier as I heard him wheeking and squeaking. I don’t fucking care if the critter croaks, but Sari would. After checking the levels of water and food and the room temperature, I decided to keep an eye on him so I took him with me. He seems to enjoy the warmth of my body. Is he purring?

I can’t forget the soft smile gracing Sari’s face when he looked at it last night. I was instantly hit with the desire to squash the pig. I wanted that sweet expression directed at me and only me. I can’t help but glare again at the hairless wiener. What does Sari see in it? Those tufts of hair are ridiculous. I touch the one on his head, pulling a little. I raise a confused brow when his bony leg starts twitching uncontrollably. Sari is way too gentle with it. Heseems to like a vigorous rubbing. The wiener is now looking up at me with those small, round eyes asking for more.

It reminds me of Sari’s begging expression, those tears making a wet path down his face. My dick had never throbbed with such a need to claim, wreck, utterly destroy someone before. The temptation so consuming, it almost burned me alive. Controlling my needs is something I don’t fucking do. Hurting people is more than an urge for me, it’s a way of life.

And then there’s Sari.

He enjoyed a few spanks, his sensual moans were proof enough of that. But that’s nothing to me. He’d break irreparably under my hands if I show him the true extent of what I’m capable of doing. Of what I have been willing—so fucking eager—to do to satisfy the blood-boiling craving I feel when I have someone yield to me.

Having him trembling with pleasure in my arms feels fucking good, but not enough. The line I drew a long time ago has been working just fine until he started going around letting other men touch what belongs to me. It turned me fucking homicidal. I made him come; he should be thankful and eager for more. Instead he locked himself in the bedroom—forced me to pick the lock—and then acted all busy and distracted this morning. What the fuck is going on in his head? Haven’t I been clear enough?

Damn it. Whenever my mind wanders, it finds him.

My phone beeps. A text from Ash, one of the triplets, with a picture of the next tattoo I plan to get.

Ash

Check the design, fucker

Me

Ungrateful dick!

I introduced him to the owner of a tattoo parlor after I saw some incredible drawings in his notebook, and they hired him. His manners remain atrocious, but he acts like a punk toward everybody. His abrasive behavior reminds me of a young me. Nevertheless, the prick will never stand a chance against me.

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