Page 93 of Firethorne
That’s when I let my survival instincts kick in, and as he pushed his dick right down my throat, I didn’t hesitate. I bared my teeth and bit down hard, as hard as I could, determined to never let go.
“Fucking Christ!” he screamed, as he fisted my hair and tried to pull me off him, but my teeth were clamped tight, and I wasn’t going to let go.
He grabbed the belt and started to pull, but my teeth bit harder, forcing him to claw at my face, trying to force my jaw open as his blood coated my lips and filled my mouth, streaming down my throat. He lashed out, smacking and punching the side of my face, my head, any part of me he could hit, but this was the only chance I had. I wasn’t going to let it go.
The knife was too far away for him to grab, and as I felt my teeth sinking through his flesh, I started to shake my head like a dog with a rag in its mouth. Within seconds, I’d bitten his dickoff, blood pouring down my chin, and he slumped to the floor, passing out in front of me.
I wretched as I spat his dick out of my throat, puking all over the carpet as his blooded dick fell to the floor. And then, I shut my brain off, refusing to think about what I’d done as I lurched forward, grabbing the knife from the desk.
I knelt beside his body, holding the knife in both hands, and then I raised it over my head and plunged it into his chest.
“That’s for my father,” I hissed, and I yanked it back out again, then plunged it back in.
“And that’s from me, you fucking piece of shit. Rot in hell,” I snarled, as I pulled it out and then pushed myself to stand on quivering, boneless legs, holding the bloody knife in my hand in a death-like grip.
I stared at his lifeless body for a moment, then I spat at him, and turned my back, before darting across the room.
I had to get out of this hellhole, but before I did, I needed to find Damien.
Chapter Forty-One
Maya
Imoved like I was on automatic pilot, my head swinging from left to right as I checked the hallways, but there was no one there. I headed for the staircase and ran down it as fast as I could, holding the rail to stop myself from tumbling as my feet scrambled to escape. And as I came to the bottom, I saw them, Miriam and Lysander, about to make their getaway through the front door.
They spun around and took one look at me, my breathing heavy, my face covered in blood, my eyes bulging and frantic, and the bloody knife still in my hand.
“Where is he?” I rasped.
Miriam looked shocked to see me. Then the shock turned to disdain as she sneered, “You can’t save him. He’s probably dead already.”
I took a step closer, holding the knife up as I hissed, “I said, where is he?”
“It’s pointless,” Lysander interjected. “Just leave, Maya. Get out of here. You can’t do anything to save him.”
“Yes, I can.” I gritted my teeth as I spoke. “Now tell me. Where the fuck is he?”
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Miriam said to Lysander, trying to block me out. But I wouldn’t let her.
“Try and leave, and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish,” I snarled.
“I’d like to see you try,” Miriam goaded, but she had underestimated me.
I flew across the foyer, throwing my whole body at her, forcing her against the wall. Holding the knife to her throat, I glared at her, pinning her in place as I tilted my head and said, “Let’s start again, shall we? Where. The fuck. Is he?”
She wasn’t going to tell me. Her jaw was clamped shut and her eyes glared back at me with toxic venom.
Lysander stood in the doorway, making no effort to come between us, but quietly, he said, “He’s in the cellar.” And Miriam rolled her eyes, pissed that he’d given up so easily.
I didn’t move, though. I didn’t want to. I had Miriam right where I wanted her, and the urge to push on the knife and send her to hell to join her uncle was all-consuming. So much in fact, that I did push on the blade, pressing it into her skin and drawing blood, making her hiss from the pain.
But she didn’t fight me.
She just kept her eyes on mine, that venom still burning within.
“Please, Maya,” Lysander begged. “Just let us go.”
He took a step closer, but I warned him, “Stay back,” as I sliced a little deeper into Miriam’s neck, drawing more blood to stop him from doing anything stupid.
