Page 152 of Monsters Wear Crowns
“What are you doing?” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
He chuckled, a grating sound, stepping toward me with unhurried ease. “Just talking.” Before I could react, he moved. A blur of motion, the cold bite of metal snapping around my wrist–handcuffs locking me against the stone wall.
“Rafe!” I jerked against the restraint, panic flaring hot in my chest. “What thefuckare you doing?” I was so caught off guard that my voice went up several octaves.
His face was close to mine now, his breath warm against my skin. “I want you to watch, Adela.”
My pulse hammered as I struggled against the cuffs, my other hand pressing flat against the wall. “This isn’t–this isn’t necessary–”
He ignored me, stepping back toward the man in the chair. The man’s head lolled forward, his face bruised, blood pooling beneath the chair. Rafe crouched beside him, gripping his hair and yanking his head up. “No one touches what’smine,” he murmured,but his eyes weren’t on his victim. They were on me.
Possessive. Unhinged.
I shuddered.
“I wasn’t the one who–” the man gasped. “It wasn’t–”
The knife pressed against his cheek. “You spoke to her. You thought about fucking her,” Rafe said smoothly. “And you pissed me off. That was enough.”
The man’s breath stuttered. “You’re fucking–”
The blade carved through flesh.
I flinched at the guttural scream that tore from his throat. My stomach twisted, watching his expression twist into agony. Blood dripped onto the floor like time slowed. I wanted to turn away, to shut my eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening.
But Rafe wouldn’t let me.
His gaze locked on mine, daring me to look away, daring me to see him for what he was. The dark monster of New York City.Was this what he looked like when he was losing one of his possessions?
I almost told him then. Almost screamed thathehad hurt me, too. That I had moved out because ofhim. But the words died in my throat. Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure what he’d do if I reminded him.
I clawed at the cuff, my wrist burning from how hard I was pulling, but it was no use. The metal didn’t budge. The chains rattled uselessly as my breath came in fast, uneven gasps.
Then he was on me again.
Rafe pinned me against the wall, his body a furnace of heat and blood. His hands caged me in, one braced beside my head, the other pressing against my hip, fingers still damp with the remnants of what he’d just done.
And then he smiled. That fucking dimple appeared on his right cheek, the same one that had once made me weak, the same one I had kissed before. But now, it terrified me. Because it wasn’t a smile of amusement. It was the smile of a man unraveling.
My stomach clenched. My pulse throbbed so hard I thought I might be sick.
“I put a gun to my head after what I did to you,” he murmured, his lips parting like the words were scraping up his throat. “But I couldn’t shoot.” His bloody hand reached up, fingers tracing my cheek, leaving smears of crimson along my skin. “I couldn’t, Adela. I needed to make it right.”
My heart pounded, my body tense beneath his touch. Iwasafraid. But something inside me–the part that had always been reckless, the part that had always wanted him despite every red flag and warning…ached. Rafe Vaughan was a sickness. And I was infected.
“I’ve never been so obsessed with a woman before.” His forehead nearly rested against mine now, his breath warm, uneven. His fingers traced lower, curling around my throat, pressing just enough to remind me of his strength and control.
My lips parted, but I barely managed a sound.
Rafe exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around my throat as his eyes flicked over my face, searching,hunting–before his expression twisted. “How badly did you want it?”
I tensed. “What?”
He stepped closer, and my back pressed harder against the cold wall. His body was burning hot. “Moreau,” he growled. “How badly did youwantit, Adela?”
Ice slid down my spine. His words were angry but also held something else that nearly broke me apart.Heartbreak. Desperation.“I didn’t,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I told you–”
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “He wanted to rip you out of my hands.” His fingers flexed around my throat. “And you almost let him.”
