Lost in Salvation

13. Control Issues

Lorelei

Smiling, I jump, grabbing ahold of the counter behind me as I quickly settle my ass onto the cold marble of the kitchen's center island. The chill of the material sends goosebumps up my legs as they dangle off of the edge, my bare thighs sticking to the slab of stone immediately. 

Just as I'd hoped, my tits bounce with my movements, sending Wren's finger's to clench around his glass so hard, I'm surprised it doesn't shatter. No matter how much we hate each other, no man is immune to the wonders of a woman's breasts. 

Feigning innocence, I cock my head to the side, spreading my legs just enough to be noticeable. 

"I've always liked counters, mainly bending over them." I pitch my voice just a tad higher than it normally sounds, giving it a breathy undertone as it flows through the room. 

Wren sputters, covering his mouth as he attempts to hide the fact that my words nearly made him choke on his water. 

As he wipes away the evidence with the back of his hand, a cheshire grin threatens to pull my lips into the air, but I force it down, pulling my knees slightly farther apart. He glares at me over his glass, lips pursing in annoyance as his eyes fail to stay put, drifting for only a second to my thighs, then flicking back up as he realizes his mistake.

"Get down." He barks, the need to control starting to take over.

I merely lean back, loving this far too much to listen to his orders. "Why?" I teasingly ponder. "Am I making a mess? Cause I can definitely make one if you would like," I flutter my eyelashes, breathing deeply to stop the fit of giggles that almost bursts through my mouth as steam nearly flys out of Wren's ears.

"You're making the counter dirty, I'll have to wipe it down if it's to be used in the morning." He grinds out, jaw clenching with far more anger than I believe this is worth. 

But I love it, my soul feeding itself off of knowing just how angry I can make these men, and just how aroused by the looks of things. Pride runs through my veins, soaring my confidence high into the sky as I flip my hair over my shoulder, my palms pressing into the counter to hold myself up.

I stare at Wren almost quizzically, taking note of the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down with each swallow, the way his shoulders tighten as the tension mounts, and the pure fury that has now entered his gaze. I mean it's almost palpable, rolling off of him in waves, sparking goosebumps to rise on my skin as we continue our staring contest.

I shrug, pretending not to be effected by his clear attempt at intimidation. "Control issues much?"

His nostrils flare, his hand moving to loudly slam his glass of water on the counter behind him, the noise making me jump, water sloshing over the rim.

"I told you to get down, Lorelei." Wren's voice comes out hard and I can almost make out the sound of disgust woven into the words. 

I stay put though, determined to prove to these men that I do not yield. I may have been brought in here as a scared little puppy, missing her mom and confused beyond anything I've ever felt. But I am not broken and I will never willingly submit to these annoying specs of dirt I now live with. Plus, what he's doing, what they're doing, is only a scare tactic. I know how these things work and I've been through much worse than this. 

Real torture makes this look like child's play. 

When the unexpected image flashes through my mind, all humor drops from my face, my features contorting into that of pure loathing. 

"And I don't listen to you, Wren." I spit, heartbeat beginning to kick up its pace.

In a flash, he's on me, snatching a kitchen knife from the stand where it once sat, the blade now centimeters away from slicing my throat in half. Our faces nearly collide, heaving breaths mixing together, my fists clenching on the countertop. As I stare into his irate eyes, no emotion other than hatred swims through them. Bolts of lightning shoot into my body, anger, fear, and desire all mixing together to create a dangerous concoction. 

"Cameron is long gone by now, little girl." Internally, I scoff. "And with no one else in the house, no phone to call home to daddy, you're all our's." Tantalizingly slow, Wren begins to drag the knife down, running the tip of the blade across my very exposed skin. "I could kill you right now and no one would know for weeks,"

My heart beats so fast, I fear he may be able to make out the sound, temples pulsing in time with its symphony. But I force myself to stay calm, steeling my features.

"My father and your father have a deal, you're meant to keep me safe. They would kill you before you even had the chance to get near me," For affect, I jut my chin out, causing the blade to actually scrape my skin, fire burning as I feel droplets of blood begin to form.

I know in my heart that my words are true. This deal between the two most powerful assassins families runs deep, Cameron Ledger would never allow it to carry out if it didn't. Wren and the others won't kill me because they can't, and he knows it. And either way, they fail to remember that I've got more blood on my hands than all of them combined. So if they want to play, they'll be playing with the devil.

Wren's eyes widen and I smirk, happy that I've caused that little vein in his forehead to appear again. 

But he switches up in half a second, putting his walls back together. "I don't care what deal they've made or what contracts Cameron makes us sign," He practically growls, lips curling as he leans down, hot breath now skating past my ear. I shiver, the hairs on the back of my neck standing in attention. "Neither Amira or Abraham will see you again if I so choose,"

At the mention of the only real family I have left, white hot rage fills my body. "Don't you dare speak their names." My voice is cool, chillingly murderous.

"Or what?" He taunts, knowing there's nothing I can do at this moment. I'm at his mercy just like he wanted.

A thump upstairs sends us both flying backwards, the spell broken in mere seconds. 

Taking my chance, I leap from the counter, not caring this time what my body looks like as I move. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I'm off, running for the stairs, the true purpose of my trip to the kitchen completely forgotten. 

But as I bound up the stairs, determined to reach the safety of my room, I hear a dark chuckle fill the space behind me.

"You'll learn soon enough, Lori. None of us are capable of compassion."

Just before I reach the third floor landing, I pause, mumbling to myself. "I figured that out a long time ago."