Dan scoffs, but I ignore him. “S-Sarah,” she says quietly, her voice mousy. I want to hurl her into my chest and run out of here, but I think we both know that’s not possible. “Sit on my lap, Sarah,” I order firmly. Reluctantly, she listens. Her eyes drop as she climbs on my lap, but I don’t miss the tears welling in her eyes beforehand. The sick feeling grows more potent as I help her up, keeping her body at my knees with one hand high on her back and my other on her knee. Areas that are not sexual but will be perceived as dominating to the others. I'd prefer not to touch her at all—she’s viewing this as something predatory—but I feel safest with her close when there’s a bunch of adults eyeing her like she’s their next meal. Literally. I force a predatory smile on my face and lean in, my lips at her ear, and whisper so only she can hear, “You’re safe with me. Keep quiet.” Dan observes the interaction closely, a hint of displeasure in his eyes. From his vantage point, he wouldn’t have been able to read my lips. And he’s not the type of man that appreciates secrets being told in front of his face. Sarah is smart. She doesn’t react. Doesn’t nod or speak. She just continues to look at her clasped hands, tremors wracking her petite body as if she’s in the middle of a snowstorm. I look up at Daniel. “Am I expected to have an audience, or can I enjoy her elsewhere?” I ask, looking at the girl with anticipation. He will think I'm anticipating all the ways I'm going to hurt her, but in reality, I'm picturing little Sarah being carried away by Ruby while I poise his head over a knife. Dan’s mouth quirks at the look on my face, his expression softening back into ease once more. I’m a damn good actor. I’d never survive in this field of work otherwise. “We would love to watch,” Dan says smoothly, leaning back in his own chair, while one hand snakes under the table. I can’t see what he’s doing from my angle, but I don’t need to in order to know that he’s squeezing himself. I’m going to enjoy killing him. “P-please take me home,” Sarah cries, the dam bursting as tears spill over her lashes and down her cherub cheeks. I wipe the tears from her cheeks, silently praising her for flinching away from my touch, even though it makes me feel like my insides are in a dumpster fire. “Don’t cry, sweetie,” I coo aloud. She cries harder, and my heart blisters from the fury. Dan licks his lips with unrestrained hunger, reaching over to do what—I don’t know. My hand that’s wrapped around her neck whips out, grabbing his hand