Page 211 of The Devil We Crave
Time to be bold, unafraid, and un-fucking-repentant.
Thanks, Dad.
I’m hardly ever caught off-guard. I’malwaysaware of my surroundings.
…But that all seems to fly out the window when I’m figuring out a more eloquent way of saying “Hey, Yelena, I fucked up because I’m a bit of a psycho and beyond obsessed with you, and I need you to know you have a choice when it comes to being with me, but I’ll probably stalk you anyway. Also, I’m in love with you”.
Because that's the moment I’m completely blindsided by the muscled arm wrapping around my neck from behind and yanking me clean off my feet.
I grunt as I hit the ground hard and a heavy body lands astride my chest, a cold andverysharp blade pressed to my jugular.
“I’m just going to ask you this the once, Achilles.”
I frown, blinking away the spots in my vision from the back of my head hitting the ground, and look up into a face I know.
“Where thefuckis Yelena,” Damiano snarls.
My brow furrows. “Excuse me?”
I wince as he presses the tip of his knife to my neck. I grit my teeth when I feel the blade pierce my skin, followed by a hot trickle of blood over my throat.
“I'm not playing games, Golden Boy,” he says quietly. “Not when it comes to my cousin?—”
“She’s not really your?—”
I wince when he stabs the point of the blade again.
“Talk to me again about semantics, motherfucker,” he says grimly. “Please.”
I swallow, my throat bobbing against his blade. “What do you mean, where the fuck is Yelena?”
“I mean I know you and she are an item,” he growls. “I know I don’t trust you in the fucking least. And I knowno one can reach her right now.”
My blood turns to ice.
“When was the last time anyone—” I grunt when Damiano settles himself a little more onto my sternum and digs the tip of the knife into my throat again.
“You're going to listen to me very, very carefully, Achilles,” he says in a low, eerily calm tone. He removes the blade from my throat, my dark red blood dripping from the tip. Then he looks me right in the eye, brings the blade to his mouth…andlicks it clean.
Soooo, Damiano is officially a psychopath. That’s information that might have been helpful to know about significantly earlier than this very moment.
“Believe me, Golden Boy, you haveno fucking ideawhat I hide under my surface,” Damiano murmurs. “So, for the last fucking time, tell me where the fuck Yelena is, before Ihappilywear your fucking skin.”
My jaw clenches. “I need my phone.”
He scowls at me. “What?”
“My phone is in my pocket,” I grunt. “If you want to know where she is, I need to get to it.”
“Why is that?” he snarls.
“Because I hid a tracking device on her wolf necklace two months ago.”
I mean, obviously.
“If I can get my phone, I’ll know exactly where she is.”
Damiano’s eyes narrow in distrust.
