Abel turns to face me, and the item in his hands makes my heart race, but not out of fear. “Do you believe us yet, Hydessa? We will kill anyone who thinks they can touch you. And to us, knives are for the bedroom. When getting rid of people like Rye here, we prefer to make a statement,” he says as he twirls the barbed wire wrapped bat in his hands. My lips part on a breath. Why is that the hottest, most possessive thing I’ve ever heard? And why is it such a fucking turn on?
