CHAPTER ELEVEN

AVERY

I KNOW I TOLD THE GUY I was going to break both of his legs, but after the little talk I had with my brother, I felt like breaking a little more.

“Did you know that you have two hundred and six bones in your body?” I ask, and he whimpers. “I’ve only broken about ten so far,” I say as the hammer hangs from my hand. I went back to it after I was done with the knife.

Blood pours from his nose and mouth. One eye is swollen shut, and his front teeth are missing. “How did you know where she lived?” I repeat myself.

He sucks in a long breath. “Dennis told me,” he mumbles. “I was supposed to meet him there that night you caught up with him.” He swallows.

He’s giving up information much easier now. “Why?”

“After following the woman for weeks, he was given the orders to take her just hours before he ran into her at the club that night. He had over forty hours with her and wanted to know if I wanted a piece before he delivered her.”

My jaw tightens.

“That doesn’t explain why you were there just yesterday,” my brother says.

He tilts his head back to try to stop his nose from bleeding. It won’t. I broke that bitch. “To see if she was there.”

“Why would she be there?” I snap. “I have her!”

He shakes his head softly once. “No one believes she’s your slave,” he says shakily. “They think you staged the whole thing to scare Preston and show Damon you had her.”

I take a step toward the man who bleeds before me. “I’m gonna kill you.”

His eyes widen. “But… I’m just a messenger.”

“Killing the messenger sends a message,” I inform him.

“I was supposed to report back to Damon—”

“Oh, you will,” I interrupt him. “I will ship your cut-up, rotting corpse back to him. You will be the message.”

_______________

“Good evening, sir.” Marvin greets me when I enter the front door to my mansion along with my brother.

“Evening, where is Bunny?” I cut to the chase, not caring to pull up the surveillance.

“Up in her room, sir. Been up there since she had her breakfast.” Nice to know she finally ate something.

I nod and place my hands in the pockets of my slacks.

“I’ll wait for you in your study,” Tristan announces.

I start climbing the stairs to the upper level. I kept watching her tracker on my phone, thinking she was gonna run. But she didn’t even try to get out of the house. Which was smart on her part because I had the alarm set. If any exterior door or window opens, my men and I would know that very second. But it also ate at me. Why wasn’t she trying to run? She fought my men too much the other day to just give up today. It didn’t make sense.

I enter her bedroom without knocking because I own this fucking house and she doesn’t need to allow me in. But don’t see her anywhere.

“Bunny?” I call out.

Nothing. My irritation of being ignored rises. When I call for her, I demand her presence.

I turn to see the bathroom door shut. I shove it open without a knock as well. I see her lying in the bathtub, facing away from me. Her neck resting on the edge, her head falling back and her long dark hair spilling onto the tiled floor.

Knowing she’s naked and not caring about her modesty, I walk over to her.

But my irritation quickly turns to fear when I see her hands lying on her thighs, palms up. Blood covers her arms, legs, chest, and stomach.

What the fuck?

“Bunny?” I demand, dropping to my knees beside the tub. I finally look at her face and see her eyes are closed, lips parted.

“Bunny?” I feel for a pulse on her neck; it’s rapid but weak.

Where is it all this blood coming from?

“Bunny! Goddammit!” I cup her cheek, and her blue eyes flutter open. Her pupils are dilated, and she looks around as if confused. “Bunny, what did you do?” I ask, unable to keep the fear out of my voice.

She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. “Come on, Presleigh. Talk to me,” I demand, needing to know.

Her head falls to the side, and she closes her eyes.

Fuck!

I start calling out for Marvin. For anyone in the house to hear me. To help. I stand and place my arms underneath her, picking her up from the tub. She weighs nothing. Her body is cold and clammy. My chest tightens. I place her on the tiled floor just as Marvin comes running in, gasping at the scene before him.

“What the fuck ...?” Kayn barks, following him.

“Call Lance. Get him here. Now!” I snap. “What did you do, Bunny?”

She can’t die on me.

That’s not the plan.

I took her to protect her. Not kill her.

 

Eighteen years old

 

I sit in my parents’ game room, lounging in the same chair I always lie in. I have a beer in my right hand while my left runs through Bunny’s hair while she lies between my legs. Guys all around us talk as “Needles” by Seether blares through the speakers in the room. It’s well past three in the morning, and my eyes are starting to get heavy from the beers and the blunt I just finished.

“Avery? Wanna play another round of darts?” asks my friend Derek from over in the corner, yanking the darts from the dart board hanging on the wall.

I look down at Bunny to see her head on my thigh, eyes closed. “Nah.” I shake my head. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

He just shrugs and then turns to another friend Mitch, asking him to play. I finish my beer, tipping it back, and watch him look over at Bunny. Things haven’t been the same since I punched him when I walked in on him pressing his cock into her ass while trying to show her how to play pool. Not sure why I never saw it before, but now it’s all I see. The way he looks at her. Watches her. The only reason I allow him to still hang around us is because my father taught me to keep my enemies close. And he has definitely become my enemy.

I slowly shift her head off my leg and then stand, picking her up in my arms. I walk out of the game room and down the hall to my bedroom. I place her on my bed and then jump over her to lie down next to her.

I place one hand under my head, propping it up and the other falls to my chest. The bass from the outside speakers that my brother has blaring for those in the pool shakes my walls, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m used to it.

I close my eyes, but they open when I feel a small hand on my chest. I look over to my left to see a set of beautiful blue eyes staring at me. “Hey,” I say, turning on my side and cupping her soft face.

“Hey,” she says with a yawn. “How long have we been in here?”

“Not even a minute.”

She glides her hand down my chest and stomach and under the hem of my shirt. I tense as her fingers softly burn my skin. “Why haven’t you pressured me for sex?” she asks.

Her question doesn’t surprise me. She’s been dropping hints here and there for a while now, but I’ve ignored them all. “I don’t want to rush you. I can wait until you’re ready.” Tristan’s words come back to me—fuck her before they do.

“What if I told you I was ready now?” she whispers softly like she is too ashamed to say it out loud.

My cock hardens at her words, but my jaw tightens. I’ve had blue balls for years now. I’ve thought of nothing but her and I having sex for longer that I can imagine. Our age difference isn’t all that bad, but I am eighteen now. And I never wanted to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. Presleigh is the kind of girl you wait for. Plus, in a world full of women and sex, I’ve wanted her to stay innocent as long as possible.

She sits up and pushes me onto my back. I go willingly. Then she’s straddling me. My hands going to her jean-clad hips. “Bunny …”

She reaches down and pulls her shirt up and over her head. “I want you, Avery.” She bites her lip nervously. “Don’t you want me?”

I sit up, my hands going to her hair instantly, and I pull her head back and she starts to pant. I press my lips to her soft skin and inhale the scent of vanilla. It’s intoxicating. “Of course, I want you.” I say roughly. No need to lie. She can feel my hardness in my jeans.

“Please,” she begs, panting.

“Please what, Bunny?” I ask, trailing down to her breast that her bra covers. We’ve fooled around before, but she’s always been the one to initiate it. I never wanted to overstep that line with her or make her feel uncomfortable. I love this woman!

“Make love to me.”

 

The fire burns, warming my study while giving off a soft glow. I sit at my desk, holding a glass of scotch in my hand. I’m on my fourth.

“At least she survived,” Tristan offers. His words sound like he cares, but his tone is indifferent.

I know how he feels. He couldn’t care less either way.

I take a drink. “For now.”

He looks up at me. “I have to say I’m surprised with Presleigh. I didn’t think she had the balls to go that far. I thought she was more of a fighter than to give up.”

I shrug and look down at the letter opener on my desk. I found it with her in the tub along with a washcloth. It’s still covered in her dried blood. And another bottle of my scotch that she needed in order to pull it off. “Everyone has a breaking point.” A part of me hates that she gave in so fast. I liked the fight in her. It was much more attractive.

“True,” he agrees.

There’s a knock on my study door. “Come in.”

Lance, our longtime family friend and doctor, peeks his head in. He looks around nervously before his brown eyes meet mine. “She’s asleep and will be for a while.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking another drink.

His eyes shoot to my brother and linger for a second before they go to my cell sitting on my desk. Then they land on mine. His brown eyes are wide with fear, and sweat has formed on his forehead.

“You okay?” I ask, wondering what the hell is wrong with him. It couldn’t be the sight of Bunny earlier. He’s been a doctor for longer than I can remember. He’s seen worse than the state I found her in.

“Yes. Yes,” he assures me with a nod of his head. “I’ll be going.” Then without another word, he exits and closes the door.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” my brother asks.

“Who knows?” I shrug with a sigh, remembering what happened just hours ago.

 

Lance enters the bathroom. “What happened?” he asks as I sit on my knees beside her.

“She slit her wrist. Found her in the tub.” My clothes have soaked up her blood, and my hands and arms are covered it in. I’ve dealt with blood before. I’ve killed before. My hands are stained with it. No matter how many times I wash them, it’ll never come off. But to have them covered in hers is different. The only woman I’ve ever loved.

“Presleigh?” he asks, his brown eyes wide when he gets a good look at her. He just stands there doing nothing but staring.

“Yes. Now fucking do something,” I demand.

He kneels beside her as well and lifts her hands. I had removed my belt and wrapped it around her forearm to close off the wound. “I think she was in shock.”

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he observes.

“Of course, it fucking is!” Has he gone blind?

He shakes his head. “She has lost blood but not enough to warrant this kind of unconsciousness.” He stares down at her. “She needs to be admitted …”

“No!” I shake my head. “Treat her here.”

After a long pause, he finally nods.

 

I finish my drink and then pour another one. My brother starts laughing.

“Care to share what is so funny?” I ask, unable to see the humor in the situation.

“I can see where she knew there was no way out. You have cameras in the house. Countless men ready to restrain her at any given moment until you arrive. And an alarm. Plus, you had a tracker placed in her. So even if she is able to outsmart your men and get a head start, she wouldn’t get far.”

“Yeah, I knew she’d run but …” My voice trails off as his words set in.

“What?”

I set my full drink down and stand from my desk, ignoring his question. I pick up the remote and turn on my TV that hangs on the wall above the mantle and then the surveillance. I rewind it to earlier in the day. My brother turns to face it, and we see her standing in her bathroom with a bottle of scotch in one hand, my letter opener in the other, and she’s completely naked. We watch silently while the scene plays out in front of us in complete shock of her actions. When I press pause, he turns around, takes a drink, and looks up at me, chuckling. “Well, that changes things.”

I storm out of my office, ignoring his statement.

Darrell stands over in the corner of her room. He was to inform me when she woke since I’ve put her on suicide watch.

“Leave us.”

He walks out without a word, closing the door behind him.

She lies in her bed just as I left her with the covers pulled up to her chest and still naked underneath them. Clothes aren’t important when you’re dying. Her arms are the only thing not covered. They rest on top of the red comforter down by her side. A white bandage is wrapped around her left wrist. Her other arm has an IV in it. Lance turned her bedroom into a hospital room, giving her everything she needed. Thankfully, she didn’t have to have a blood transfusion. It could have been much worse.

I saved her. If I hadn’t come home, she could have died in that tub.

She’ll owe me big for that. Especially since I know it wasn’t suicide due to desperation. Now I understand she cut herself open due to determination. She wanted that tracker out so she could run. She cut herself horizontally, not vertically. But I couldn’t think straight. At the time, I just had to save her. She’s worth nothing to me dead.

My jaw clenches at the thought of her outsmarting me. She almost did. I could tie her to the bed or take her to the cellar and chain her to a wall. Where I’d starve her, beat her, fuck her.

There are several cruel yet appealing ideas I could do to her against her will that would guarantee she’d never get away, but I don’t want those. I don’t want her to fight me. Plus, that would make me no better than the men who want her.

She doesn’t need to know the details. She just needs to trust me as she did at one time. But she’s obviously smarter than I thought. That’s how we got to this point.

I want cooperation.

I want submission.

I want total dominance over her.

So I’m gonna have to come at this from a different angle. Just as she played me for a fool, I’m gonna play her.

I walk over and stare down at her sleeping face. She really is as beautiful as she used to be. Her nose is smaller, but her face still reminds me of a Barbie doll and porcelain skin.

Now that I know she’s not suicidal, she’s even more intriguing. Even more resilient.

My Bunny!

Her dark hair is fanned across the pillow. Her color has returned to her tanned skin. I smile at how much she must hate me in order to willingly cut herself open to rip out her tracker. Just to run from me. I know it had to hurt. I saw the tears as they ran down her gorgeous face. And it makes me hard knowing that she was that strong to keep going.

That determined.

I’m about to show her that I can match her determination.

Leaning down, I place a soft kiss on her forehead, my lips lingering for a second too long before I pull back and whisper, “It didn’t work, Bunny. You’re still mine. Now more than ever.”

PRESLEIGH

I moan in pain as my heavy eyes try to open. The room is dark, but the lamp glows from the nightstand, giving the room some light.

I sit up but feel a rush of dizziness take over. I place my head in my hands and hiss in a breath when my right arm pinches. Pulling it away, I see an IV in it and blood.

“What the …?” I trail off when I see a bandage around my other wrist. And I swallow the knot that instantly forms in my throat.

I failed.

My plan didn’t work.

 

I sit in the cold clawfoot tub stripped naked. The faucet isn’t running, and the tub is empty. I have no plans to bathe. But this is the only spot I could think to pull off what I need to do. Once I’m done, I’ll turn on the water and wash all the evidence down the drain.

Easy cleanup.

I may not have been able to access the computer, but I was able to find something useful.

I spin the letter opener that I stole from his office between my fingers. It’s sterling silver with a long blade that comes to a sharp point. The top has a black cross, and I wrap my fingers around it, feeling the heavy weight of it in my hand. My salvation!

This isn’t ideal, but it’s the only option I have at the moment. If I run, he’ll find me, and this tracker gives him an advantage. And who knows what he’ll do to me when he catches me. I could be down for weeks before I’d be strong enough to try again.

I can’t have that.

If I’m gonna have any chance, I need the upper hand. Grabbing the washcloth that lays over the side of the tub, I stuff it in my mouth to quiet my screams so his butler and whoever the hell else is in this house doesn’t hear. ’Cause I know this is gonna hurt like a bitch. But once it’s out, I’ll run.

 

Tears instantly sting my eyes, and my chest tightens.

“I have to applaud your effort.”

My head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Avery sits over in the far corner by the large window in a high-back chair. Dressed casually in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt, he holds a glass of dark liquid in his large hand as it rests on his thigh.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” I snap, my hands fisting the red comforter, and the tightness making my left wrist hurt.

“I can, and I will.”

“I don’t belong to you!” I shout, angry tears sliding down my face. “You can’t do this to me!” My chest starts to heave, and my lungs burn. I can’t breathe. All of a sudden, the room is too small. He is too big.

He tilts his head to the side, watching me with fascination. As though he’s never seen me before.

He hasn’t. Not this Presleigh. I used to be carefree. And in love with him. That was before … before he left me with nothing.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. “Let me go, Avery.”

“No.”

“You fucking hate me!” I shout, my lungs burning. “Why keep me here?”

“I have my reasons,” he responds simply.

I grind my teeth in frustration. And my eyes fall to the IV in my arm. Without thought, I yank it out and rip the covers back before I jump out of bed. The room sways, and my vision blurs, and I feel lightheaded. I blink a few times and place my left hand out to grab the nightstand, but it just slides across, and I fall to my knees. Dots form, and my head spins.

“You had some blood loss.” I hear Avery’s voice off in the distance. “Cutting yourself open and almost bleeding to death will do that to you. Plus the fact that you fell and hit your head on the corner of the tub. Knocking yourself out in the process.”

“Fuck you,” My head pounds, and blood rushes in my ears.

“I think you’ve fucked yourself, Bunny,” he says, and I can hear the amusement in his words.

I hang my head in defeat while I kneel on the bedroom floor. My hands fist the red rug, and I rock back and forth, trying to think of a way out. An escape. I won’t allow him to keep me here like this as if I’m nothing to him. As if I was always nothing to him.

Is this how he always saw me? Had I been so blinded by my love for him that I didn’t realize he never saw me as a person? Fresh tears fall down my face at that thought.

“You’re thinking too much.” He interrupts my thoughts. “You’re here because I want you here, Bunny. And that’s all that matters.”

I swallow a sob that threatens to come out. “I don’t belong to you.” My voice is rough, and I clear my throat. “I never did.” Just saying those words has my heart beating faster.

I hear the ice in his glass clink, letting me know he’s taking a drink. “That’s right,” he says in a clipped tone. “You never were mine, Presleigh.” Hatred rolls off his words at the sound of my name. “But you pretended so well back then. I have faith you can do it again.”

He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He knows fucking nothing!

“Or you can continue to fight me along the way.” He chuckles. “I find that I like you better like this than the fake bitch who pretended to love me back then.”

I can’t take it anymore—the way he speaks as if everything we had, the future we were building meant nothing to me—so I change the subject. “How long?” I finally ask. He stays silent. “How long am I here for, Avery?” I snap.

I hear the leather creak as he stands from the chair. Then I see his tennis shoes in front of me. I look up, and he is smiling down at me. He likes it like this. Me on my knees. Him standing tall and all powerful.

“Until I decide I’m done with you.”

I bare my teeth at him. “I’ll fight you. I’ll make you wish you’d just kill me.” A tear runs down my cheek in frustration.

“No, Bunny. You’re gonna wish I killed you.”

I don’t flinch at his words, but the tone causes my chest to tighten. I stay on my knees and bow my head again, unable to look at him anymore.

He bends down, picking me up by my upper arm. His fingers dig into the bruises already left from his belt, but I refuse to let him know he’s hurting me. Instead of placing me on the bed like I think he’s going to, he pulls me toward the bathroom. And then he turns on the water in the bathtub. Blood is smeared over the porcelain. My blood.

“Get in,” he orders, and I do as he commands. He might as well have a chain around my neck because there’s no fighting him. He’s proven that.

I sit down, and he leaves the bathroom, coming back with a towel and washcloth. He bends down beside me while the warm water fills the cold tub. “What did you do with the washcloth that was in the tub with you?” he asks.

I look away from him. He grabs my chin and yanks my face back to his. Dark blue eyes glare into mine. “I asked you a question.”

I still refuse to answer.

“Do you like being gagged, Bunny? Is that why you stuck in it your mouth?”

Motherfucker!

He must have watched the tape. In my decision to cut myself open and rip out my tracker, I had forgotten cameras were in here.

He gets my attention as he wads up the washcloth in his hand. “Open your mouth.”

My eyes widen, and I pull my face as far away from him as I can. Tears sting my eyes at having to tell him what I attempted to do. “Bunny …”

“I placed it in my mouth so Marvin wouldn’t hear me scream,” I cave, knowing that the bastard already knows this. He’s just making me say it. He wants me to remind myself that I failed.

His eyes narrow on mine, and his jaw sharpens. He looks at me as if he wants to hit me, and for a moment, I hope he does. I want him to make me hurt. Make me feel alive. Because I feel deader now than I ever have. Once again, I failed myself. I got myself in a situation I couldn’t get out of.

Instead, he places the washcloth in the warm water that continues to fill the tub and then grabs the soap bottle, pouring the pink liquid onto the washcloth. After he lathers it up, he places it on my skin and starts to wash me. I stay silent as I remember the last time he bathed me. Before things went very south. Eleven years ago.

 

He sits behind me in his tub, his arms around my shoulders while my back rests on his chest. I feel his lips by my ear, and he whispers. “I love you, Bunny.”

I smile, closing my eyes. “I love you too, Avery.”

His arms loosen around my shoulders, and his hand moves to my flat stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask with a smile. “You don’t want a boy?”

“I want a girl. The world needs another beautiful face like yours,” he says, and I feel tears threaten my eyes at his words. I’m terrified. I have no idea how to care for a baby. But he makes me believe that we can do it. Just me and him. Our own little family.

“Well, I can’t wait to find out.” We’ve only known I’m expecting for a few weeks now, and he hasn’t let me out of his sight since. I’ve been moody and sick lately. He suggested the possibility, but I said there was no way. We have always been careful, but I guess not enough. I frown. “I wish you didn’t have to leave next week.” He and Preston are going away to look at colleges. Avery assured me I’d be going wherever he decides to go, but with the baby coming, we need to have a plan. I couldn’t argue with that.

“I’ll only be gone for a week,” he promises me before kissing my cheek.