34. Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

I wake with a groan, my neck stiff as fuck. I already know where I am before I open my eyes. This is all too familiar at this point.

"What the fuck, Sev!" I shout, jerking on the bindings, hoping the fucking chair will break. Of course it doesn't, and all I do is cause friction on my wrists. I'm going to have permanent marks on them by the time this asshole is done.

He doesn't come into the room. Not for a while.

As I wait, I wonder if he's going to kill me this time. Leave me here to die maybe.

When his footsteps sound in the hallway, at least an hour after I've woken, I perk up.

"You're a dickhead," I growl.

He's grinning when he steps in front of me. "Did you forget we were playing a game?"

"I thought the game was over when you made me breakfast."

"Baby, this game is way too fun to give up on." He leans down to get eye level. "We can do both. I like cooking and chasing. Seems you like to eat and be captured, so—"

"I do not like to be captured."

"Hm," he says, standing but keeping his gaze on me. "Could have fooled me with how easy you make it."

I roll my eyes. "Can you let me out, please? I need to talk to you."

His eyes shine with excitement. "Do you?"

"Yes, now let me out."

He pulls his knife from his pocket. "First things first."

"Oh, come on!" I shout, rocking the chair. "Seriously?"

"I told you the rules, Justin." He rips my shirt and I let my head fall back, letting out a loud, frustrated sound.

"I fucking hate you," I mutter.

"There's a fine line between love and hate, so I'll take it." He presses the blade to my skin, and I cringe, gritting my teeth through the pain. Though the letter is only two slices, it's right over a spot that hurts like a fucking bitch.

When he's done, he steps back, looking down at his work with pride in his eyes. "I'm almost done, you know."

"What's your point?" I snap.

"I told you what would happen when I'm done."

"Let me out!" I bark at him, not wanting to entertain his delusions. If he thinks just putting his name on my skin is going to make me his, he's crazier than I thought.

"So bossy," he mutters, moving behind me to undo the ropes. It's the first time he's actually let me out and not made me do it myself.

I move to the bathroom and check out the letter. It's dripping blood, bright red right beside the other pink letters. T.

S-E-V-A-S-T

I think it's safe to assume what his name is at this point. And he's not wrong about almost being done. Sevastian has only three letters left to be complete. It's the uncommon spelling of the name that threw me off. Fucking Russians.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Sev asks. His tone low and husky. He's probably hard right now.

"Hardly the word I'd use to describe it." I grab a towel, wet it, and dab at my skin. My eyes squeeze shut, and I hiss at the burn.

There's a hand on my shoulder, and I open my eyes when Sev gives me a gentle push. He guides me to the toilet, gesturing for me to sit on the closed lid. Which is when I notice something in his hand. Gauze and tape.

He pulls my shirt up, despite my arguments over it. As usual, I finally relent and let him do his thing. He cleans up the wound and covers it. When he's done, he leans against the wall, crossing his arms.

"What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Do we have to do this in the bathroom?" I ask, getting to my feet. I try to walk by him, but I can't squeeze by the counter with where he's standing. Not without brushing against him—a lot.

He gives me a knowing smile. "Lead the way somewhere else," he says, not moving.

"You're such a dick," I mutter with a shake of my head. I push by him anyway, not at all caring that my dick brushes his when I walk by. In fact, I press against him on purpose and stare at him as I do it to make sure he knows.

"I'll remember that," he says as he follows me back into the bedroom.

I sit on the bed and look up at him when he stops in front of me. Getting straight to the point is the best way with him.

"I need a favor."

He narrows his eyes, looking at me suspiciously. "A favor?" I nod. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to kill someone for me."

His brows shoot up. "Let me get this straight. You tell me you hate me, tell me I'm annoying, avoid me at all costs, but now you want something from me. And not something simple, either. But something that could get me put away for life?"

My jaw drops. When I pick it up off the floor, I say, "You're joking?" When all he does is hold my gaze, I add, "You've kidnapped me a handful of times already, carved your name into my skin, drugged me, broke into my house, and who the hell knows what else. You owe me a favor."

"I've also cooked you breakfast."

"That has no merit whatsoever."

"Oh, I think it does. I don't make food for just anyone."

"You're impossible." I get to my feet to leave, but he grabs my arm.

His eyes soften, and I hate when he looks at me like this. Hate when he shows that he has feelings and emotions. He's so much better when he's the crazed lunatic.

"Why do you need me to do it? Why can't you? You're capable."

He's right. I am capable. Completely. And it's not that I'm scared, because that isn't the right word. I just know Sev could do this in a way that would be better. It's guaranteed. And it'll save my ass if anyone finds out what this really is.

When I don't answer, his brow furrows. "Who is it? What kind of trouble are you in?"

"Don't you think if I were in trouble, you'd know about it?"

He watches me for a moment, then lets go of my arm. "Good point."

"So will you do it or not?" I ask, turning to face him.

He steps toward me, putting his hand on my waist. I hate that he does this. Yet I really fucking love when he does this. It's so simple, yet it feels so good. So right. "What do I get out of it?"

Knew this was coming. And I prepared myself for it.

"What do you want?"

His gaze dips from my eyes to my lips then back. "A date."

"A date?" I ask in disbelief.

"Go on a date with me."

"That's it?" I ask. "That's all you want? Not like a million dollars or my first-born child?"

He chuckles, stepping closer to me and sliding his hand further around me. "Baby, I have more money than I know what to do with, and your first-born child is going to be mine."

I hold back the eye roll.

"Fine. One date." I step out of his grip and hold out my hand to shake. He slaps it away, and lunges in for a kiss. His lips are warm, soft, and for the first time, I realize I don't hate this. No, it's not that I just don't hate it—I like it. I'm enjoying this. My chest warms as I lean in to deepen the kiss. He makes a satisfied sound in his throat, his tongue sweeping over mine. He's so hard against me, and I want to touch it. But I pull back before it can get that far.

Can't let him think I'm interested.

He looks slightly dazed when I step back. I probably look the same. He quickly recovers though, while my head is still spinning from that kiss.

"Just send me the details," he says.

"That's it? You don't even care who it is?" I ask.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning against the door frame. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know. Maybe? What if it's someone you're loyal to?"

He grins. "No such thing." Sev pushes off the wall and heads down the stairs.

"Impossible!" I call after him, following.

"It's not, actually. The only person I'm loyal to is me." He looks over his shoulder, eyeing me up and down. "And maybe you."

I pause, almost falling down the stairs. I grip the banister to keep my balance. What the fuck?

He keeps going. I get my wits about me and hurry after him. I've made this walk so many times already, but only to get out of here as fast as I can. Never to stay. And not that I plan on staying forever, but I need more info.

"You don't have any family? Friends?"

"No friends. Plenty of family back home, but we're far from typical. It's all business." He keeps moving through the house, so I follow him.

"Can you stop?" I call out.

He stops and turns to face me with a frown. "What?" he asks.

Why does he seem annoyed with me all of a sudden?

Why do I care? This is what I wanted. I asked him to do it, and he said he'll do it. Done.

"We need to talk about this," I say.

Do we, though?

"Okay. So talk then."

"Once this happens, I'm leaving."

"Okay."

That isn't the reaction I expected.

Or hoped for.

"You can't tell anyone about this."

"You think I got where I am today by being a rat?" he says harshly.

"Well, no, but the guy is—when I leave, I'm going to my cousin's. They have kids and shit. I can't risk them.."

He searches my face for a moment, and then his falls. His lips turn into a small frown, before he huffs out a laugh.

"So that's what this is then?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"You want me to do this so it doesn't fall on you. You want me to save your ass. Cover for you."

When I thought about it in my head it was more of having a fall guy, but yeah, I guess that's the same thing.

"I guess?"

"You're not just asking for a favor. You need my help."

"What is your point?" I ask carefully, not understanding where he's going with this.

"Point is you need me. You trust me. And that—" He steps toward me, tugging on my shirt to pull me to him. "Is so fucking sexy." He leans down to kiss me again, but I push him away. He laughs, running a hand through his hair, not at all looking put off that I shoved him away.

"Stop doing that," I say.

He smiles. "Why? You like it."

"You can't just kiss me like it's normal."

"It could be."

"No, it can't. I'm leaving."

"I could go with you."

"No," I say firmly.

"Your cousin already likes me."

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Then what?"

"Because I don't want you to," I argue.

His lips slowly form a smile, and he nods. "When do you need it done by?"

"As soon as possible." It's when I speak those words I realize I'm panting. My heart is pounding. Why? This man is so bad for me it's not even funny. I'd hoped to ask him about the person following me so I can figure out a way to handle that too. Sev probably already knows who it is. But I can't ask him for another thing. Not right now. He'd probably want my hand in marriage in return, and that isn't fucking happening. I'd sooner let whoever is after me kill me.

"I'm leaving," I finally say, turning on my heel. I expect him to follow me, but he doesn't.

Which bothers me for far too long.