CHAPTER THIRTEEN

AVERY

THE FOLLOWING DAY, I SIT at the head of the table drinking a cup of coffee when I feel her enter the room. I had sent Marvin to fetch her this morning. I decided last night after talking to my brother in the study that it’s time to pull back. She needs to think she has some freedom. Security. It’s part of fucking with her mind.

“Morning.”

She remains silent, and I finally pull my eyes from the emails I’m reading on my cell to look at her. She stares down at the table, her hair a disheveled mess, and hands placed in her lap. She doesn’t move. I don’t even see her chest rise in the black nightgown. The right strap hangs off her shoulder. She looks like a statue—gorgeous and breakable.

I place my phone in the pocket inside my suit jacket and stand. Walking over to her, I reach out and run the pad of fingers up her forearm. She tenses, and I smile. “How did you sleep?” I ask.

“You shouldn’t ask questions that you already know the answer to,” she answers softly.

My smile grows. She’s referring to the cameras. Of course, I watched her again last night. She slept like shit, tossing and turning mostly. Every now and then, she would sit straight up and look around like she was lost. Then the moment she realized she was living a nightmare, she would lie back down and turn her back to the camera.

My hand reaches her upper arm, and I gently pull her strap back onto her shoulder. Leaning over, I pull her hair back to expose her neck to me. I kiss the warm skin. “I’ll be home at five, and I want you in my study waiting for me. On your knees.”

She slowly lifts her head, and those blue eyes I’ve missed all these years glare up at me. So much anger. Hate. With one look, I swear I can feel my body heating up as if she’s setting me on fire. “That won’t happen.”

“Oh, it will, Bunny,” I assure her. “Either you’re waiting for me on your knees, or I punish you.”

“The punishment would be me on my knees for you,” she snaps.

I step back and let her think she’s won. That I am actually taking her seriously. Walking out of the dinning room, I spot Kayn in the hallway.

“I’m ready when you are, sir ...”

“Then let’s go.”

PRESLEIGH

Entering the bedroom, I look around for anything I can use. I can’t leave this room; that is too risky. There are men on the other side of my bedroom door. If I can escape from here, I may have a chance.

I walk over to my bed and yank off the comforter and then both the black sheets. I run into my closet and shut the door. It’s the only room that doesn’t have a camera in it that I know of. I’ve never seen a red blinking light in it anyway. That has to be a good sign. I tie each end together and pull on them to make sure they are secure, though the odds of them staying tight aren’t all that great. My weight may pull them apart, and I may fall to my death. Knowing my luck, I would just break a leg, but I’ll take my chances.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the closet and over to the window, but of course, it’s locked. I look around for something to throw at it but come up empty. “Think,” I say to myself.

Then my eyes fall on the high-back chair over in the corner. I fall to my knees before it and look at the legs. They’re big and wooden. Unscrewing one as quickly as I can, I hold it in my hands like a baseball bat and look at the window. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m not sure how long I have before they come after me, but my tracker is long gone. At least something good came out of cutting myself open. If I can just get to someone. Get them to listen or take me to the police. Then I can get back to New York. I can’t stay here. Not with him.

I tighten my hands on the leg, take a deep breath, and close my eyes before I swing. All it does is bounce off the glass. I tighten my grip, widen my stance, and take a deep breath, then swing again.

The glass shatters, and I have a moment of excitement before an alarm sounds.

“Shit!”

I run into the closet, grab the sheets, and wrap it around the other leg of the chair. It’s not gonna hold. The chair is going to move with my weight, but it doesn’t matter. I just need it to slow me down so I don’t hit the ground at full force. I throw it over the window and start to climb out just as a man I’ve never seen walks into my room. “She’s going out the window …”

I loosen my grip and start falling. The wind whips my hair around, and my stomach’s up in my throat.

Glancing up, I see the guy looking out of the window down at me. He grabs a hold of the sheet and yanks it. I let go, already committed to this extremely suicidal idea. My feet hit the ground, my knees buckle from the force, and I fall onto my back. The fall knocks the wind out of me, and I suck in a breath, rolling over onto my side. “Fuck!” I hiss, holding my side. Making my way onto shaky legs, I turn around to run when a fist hits me in the face. I’m knocked to my ass once again as dots form in my vision. I cover my face with my hand as tears instantly sting my eyes, and I cry out.

“Fucking bitch!”

My body shakes as the pain takes over, making my face throb and my tongue taste blood. Then I feel pressure on my chest, and I can’t breathe. My hands are ripped away from my face and pinned above my head.

“You just don’t know when to give up.”

I look up through water eyes to see Darrell straddling my chest. Another man kneels above my head, holding my arms down.

I scream out in frustration while they hold my bruised and broken body down effortlessly.

“Shut her up!” barks the man holding my arms.

Darrell lifts a syringe and removes the cap with his teeth. “No!” I shout, not wanting them to drug me. I’m afraid of what they may do to me without Avery here.

He grabs my chin roughly and shoves my head to the right, and then I feel the prick of the needle in my neck before my body starts to go numb. They both are still holding me down when my world goes black.