Even from myself.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He reaches a hand toward my face and I flinch away, but he wasn’t actually going for my face.
His fingers flex around my throat and he digs the pads into the flesh of my neck as his other hand hits the stop button and something else.
But I don’t focus on that.
I can’t.
Not when all my blood rushes to where his hand is on the sides of my throat. It’s not harsh with the intent of stealing my breath, but it’s firm enough to trigger memories of that night.
Memories of him touching me, immobilizing me, and setting me ablaze in a blast of smithereens. And those thoughts are plaguing me right now.
They’re tearing me to pieces.
Setting me on fire.
Ripping through my bones.
And I can’t stop the images or the full-blown heat that invades my nerve endings, specifically the ones he’s touching.
“You don’t know me, so this is my first and final piece of advice to you. Don’t fuck with me. Not only will you be the one fucked over, but I’ll also take pleasure in tearing you apart and feasting on the remains.”
I’m used to living under threat. Being offered an ultimatum and never actually having a choice. But his way of doing it, with cold calm, slashes through the fairies in my stomach. They’ve turned black now, which is a signal to run the fuck away.
But I can’t.
Not with his savage hold on my throat. There’s a control in it, a simmering firmness, and it’s much more ruthless than the dominance I experienced when he fucked me.
This one is laced with a tinge of anger or displeasure. Maybe both.
“Now tell me what your name is. The actual one.”
“J-Jane…” I don’t mean to stutter, but I did and he must hear it, because his hold tightens on my throat.
“I don’t appreciate liars, beautiful. Especially conniving ones.”
“I’m not…a…liar…” He has to believe me. Otherwise, the new beginning I painted for myself will be null and void.
He can’t know who I actually am.
No one can.
“Your blood that I found on the condom would testify otherwise.”
I gasp, wheezing and shaking while he stands there still as a stone, a cold one that could be used as a weapon.
“I thought you weren’t a virgin.”
I press my lips together, unable to utter a word.
“Turns out, you were a virgin, after all, and since you lied about your name just now, it means you’re used to lying. So tell me, what’s your purpose, hmm? What are you after, Anastasia?”
“Jane… It’s Jane…”
“So it is Anastasia. I suspected it before, but now that you’re insisting it’s Jane, I’m sure that isn’t your true name.”
Oh, God.
Just who is he and why is he doing this? Is it just because I lied about my virginity?
But he shouldn’t be this intense, angry, and violent about it.
“What’s with the name change, Anastasia?”
Every time he says my name, a jolt rips through me. It’s fast and sharp and leaves me as breathless as his hold on my throat does.
I tap his arm, choking on my nonexistent inhales, but I don’t fight him. If I do, I’ll be giving myself away.
Besides, it’s not that I need him to release me because he’s hurting me. It’s more because my reaction to his hold is scaring the shit out of me.
It’s scaring me more than the fact that he found me or that he’s endangering my new beginning.
He releases me slowly, and I grab the assaulted spot, breathing harshly, the sound ugly in the silence of the elevator.
I should be focused on that, but all I can do is inhale his cologne, basically sucking it into my lungs. The lime and male musk is too familiar. I recognize it because it’s been on my mind for two weeks
“You didn’t answer my questions, Anastasia.”
“Stop calling me that.” I adjust my glasses, using them as a shield. “It’s Jane. My name is Jane.”
He’s about to grab me by the throat again. I can tell from the darkening of his eyes, and if he does, I’ll find no way out this time.
I won’t be able to escape.
So I use a tactic that’s common in my family. Distraction.
“I have an idea,” I say.
“What’s that?”
I duck and before he realizes what I’m doing, I push the elevator button.
The moment it opens, I’m dashing outside, running with all my might.
But I know, I just know this is only a temporary escape.
The war I unintentionally started is far from over.
6
KNOX
“Hey, Dan. What’s the best way to punish liars?”
“Fuck if I know. I don’t punish liars, I fuck them.”
I stare at Daniel who’s sitting on the top of my desk, eating the donuts my assistant brought me. He’s a thief that way and couldn’t care less what others think about him as long as he gets what he wants.
For him, efficiency comes first and everything else is secondary.
“Why the fuck would you fuck liars?”
“Hello? Because it’s fun. Liars are usually the best fuck because you never know what you’re in for.”
I tighten my fist on the desk to resist agreeing to how true those words are. I hate not knowing what I’m in for. Unlike Dan, I never seek out the thrill. In fact, I prefer it not be part of the equation.
I prefer having everything under my control. I’ve lost enough of it to the shadows in the past and allowing it to happen again is equal to blowing up everything to pieces.
“Why would you think it’s fun when they’re using you?”
“You’re using them, too.” He swings his palm in the air, imitating tapping an arse. “And then it’s, “thank you, have a nice life, love. ””
“That still doesn’t give anyone the right to use me.”
He raises his brows, studying me, and even pauses eating his donut, which is the equivalent to an event itself. “Since when did you grow morality balls?”
“It’s not morality. It’s the insult of being taken for a fool.”
“Oh, fuck me, this is good.” He jumps down from my desk. “Who took you for a fool? I need to buy them a drink. Wait a second, is it someone you fucked without me? I need a redo, one I can participate in.”
“No.” The word is so firm and final, it surprises me.
I’ve never said no to sharing before and he knows this, because he’s tilting his head with an annoying smirk that creases his cheeks with dimples.
Women love that shit. He’s the one they’re initially attracted to, due to his wittiness, charm, and conversation skills. I’m usually only along for the ride. It’s not that they’re not attracted to me, it’s that they feel like they should keep their distance from me.
Which is the smart thing to do.
Anastasia was the smartest of the bunch, because she fled the scene while I was sleeping. From the very beginning, she never envisioned anything beyond good old fucking.
And while I might have let that slide under different circumstances, the fact that she’s a pathological liar doesn’t play in her favor.
She lied not only about the virginity bit, but also about her name and her age. Because I sure as shit got her file from HR after I ran into her in the lift. And fucking surprise, she’s only twenty, not twenty-three as she told me that night.
Then there’s her weird new appearance. When the lift doors opened, I almost ignored the person inside, almost didn’t even look at her, since I was busy checking the group chat with mine and Dan’s friends in England.
It was a brief second, barely a lift of my head, but it was enough for me to see her.
And it didn’t take me long to recognize her. The blue-eyed, icy-haired girl from Jersey.
Though now, she’s nothing like that soft-looking blonde with deep blue eyes. She has black hair that’s tied in a twist and wears thick fucking glasses to hide her eyes that have magically turned brown.