Is this all a set-up? Does Reon want me to die? Or worse, get raped?
Surely not. Right?
But then again, I don’t know him.
Not the smartest move I’ve ever made.
But here I am…
I never claimed to be smart.
Maybe it was me telling him my bad thoughts; maybe he thought to do this to scare me into thinking I shouldn’t want them. And even though I do not want either of those men’s hands on me, I still would very much like to watch them bleed.
“Okay, maybe you can have the last of her once we’re done,” one of them says. I think it was the bald-headed one because he drops his bottle of alcohol on the pavement, where it shatters, and the leftover alcohol starts to run down to where I am. My eyes track it before they lift back up to what’s happening. The guy takes a step in my direction, but Reon is still blocking his path. The one with the knife watches, taking a swig from his bottle while clutching the weapon. The atmosphere is tense as adrenaline courses through my veins while I assess the situation unfolding in front of me. Reon has a dangerous glint in his eyes as I take a quick glance back when the friend takes a step forward, his intentions clear.
“I never said I liked to share.” Reon smiles slyly and looks back at me. “Close your eyes, now, Caterpillar,” Reon demands, and I wonder if the alcohol just evaporated from his system. It’s as if it has completely dried up, and now, standing in front of me, is a man who appears far more dangerous than both of the men in front of him.
When I don’t listen, he turns as the bald-headed guy steps closer, and before I can say a word or even move, Reon punches the guy in the throat. The guy drops to the ground, his hand going straight to his throat, gargling a scream for help that doesn’t quite surface as the other guy charges forward. In four steps—yes, I am counting—he reaches Reon, who turns to him. Reon steps to one side and smacks the guy’s hand, which, in turn, forces him to open his hand. Reon grabs the knife and, in one swift movement, plunges it into the attacker’s stomach.
It all happens so fast—within a blink.
The man’s screams echo in the confined space of the alley but are drowned out by the bars and all their loud music. Reon gives him the same treatment as his buddy, punching him in the throat and cutting off his screaming. The guy drops to the ground on his knees, and his hands go to his stomach, not touching the knife, just clutching the area around it.
“I told you to close your eyes,” Reon says with a grin, and I find his eyes trained on me.
“Your fingerprints will be on that knife,” I tell him as I step closer. When I reach him, he looks down at me. I rise up onto my tippy-toes, and he just smirks as I kiss the corner of his mouth, not fully touching it. He hasn’t made a move to kiss me, and I want him to do that first.
“I thought you were going to let them hurt me.” His eyes flick to my lips as if he is considering kissing me. But his hand, the same one that just incapacitated two men, touches my face. Gently. A wave of disappointment hits me that he doesn’t kiss me.
“Why would I do something like that?” he replies.
I have no answer to give, so instead, I turn around to the man with the knife in his stomach. I reach down and clasp the handle as I look over my shoulder back to Reon. I see something in his eyes as he looks to where my hand is, then back to my eyes.
“If I pulled this out, would it kill him?” I ask Reon. The guy makes a sound, but I ignore him. He dares not move with my hand on the handle.
“Yes, Caterpillar, he would more than likely bleed to death.” A smirk touches his lips, and it’s then that realization hits. Somehow, during a night that should have left me completely broken, I’ve found someone who happens to have the same twisted, fucked-up character as my own. He just knows how to mask it better.
Turning back, I look down as the guy silently pleads with his eyes, and I get lost in the pain that stares back at me.
Leaning in so my lips almost touch his ear, I say, “I should thank you, really, for what you have shown me tonight, and you are lucky you get to keep your cock after what you had planned.”
The one guy who was holding the knife makes a gargled sound.
“I could let you cut it off if you wish,” Reon offers.
I suck in a breath, pulling away as the guy’s eyes go wide.
“Could you imagine the amount of blood there would be if I did?” How long would that wound take to kill him? My hand moves, and the guy’s hands fall to mine. He tries to pry my fingers free, but my grip on the knife is secure.
“I bet you wish you weren’t such a pig now. Wanting to what? Rape and hurt women.” I tsk at him. “Why are so many men lying, cheating pigs?”
“Caterpillar,” Reon says from behind me.
“It’s true,” I tell him, not looking away from the one who still has a hold of me. His hands feel slimy, but he knows if he hurts me, the knife in his stomach will hurt him more.
The power, the rush of it, is unlike any high I have ever experienced.
And I have tried most drugs.