CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AVERY

I WALK OUT OF HER ROOM. Making my way back down the winding staircase, I head toward my study to find Darrell already waiting for me. “You hit her.” I growl.

He places his hands behind his back and squares his shoulders. “I was instructed to do what was necessary to get her under control.”

“You had a syringe in your hand,” I snap. “That was enough.”

“Sir, I—”

“You need to remember your place,” I interrupt him. “Kayn is in charge of her. You are to follow his orders, and I do believe after the incident on the plane, he told you to keep your hands to yourself. You are to only administer the drug if needed.” He just stands there, looking straight ahead. “Am I understood?” I snap.

“Yes, sir.”

“Get out!”

He walks out, and I fall into my chair behind my desk. I pull a single key out of my pocket and unlock a drawer. Opening it up, I remove her cell phone. I had them bring it from her house because a person’s life is on their phone. This will keep me updated with what is happening back in New York now that she has been taken.

Turning it on, it starts to ding with messages and voicemails.

 

Where are you? Thought we were meeting at six?

Babe. Where the fuck are you?

I’m still waiting.

I went to your house. You weren’t there. Are you shacked up with some man? Is this like last time when I had to come save you from a cottage up north because your date freaked out and hit you?

Bitch, answer me!

I’m starting to get really worried, babe.

I’m outside your house, and there is a guy trying to get in …

 

That’s the guy I had tied up in my warehouse. The messages go on and on from someone named Alex. They’re sending them every fucking two minutes.

I go to her pictures and open them up. The first three are of her. She’s smiling under neon lights. You can tell she’s drunk as her eyes stare blankly into the camera. A man stands beside her with his arm over her shoulders. In the next, he is leaning in, kissing her cheek while she looks up at the ceiling. The next is of her tits. Her bare tits. My jaw tightens. Who the fuck did she send this to?

The next is her lying on her back in a bed. I don’t recognize it to be the one at her house. Her tongue is on her lip, eyes closed, and she’s naked. Someone else took it because they’re standing at the end of the bed while she lies on it. Her legs are closed, hiding her pussy, but you can see everything else while they stand over her.

I slam her phone down onto my desk.

What happened to her? When did she become such a fucking slut? And even now, even though she hates me, she was begging me to fuck her. That she needed to come. Maybe she’s a sex addict. Possibly an alcoholic as well.

She’s gonna hate me, but I’m gonna cure her of both of those things if that’s the case. I turn off her cell and place it back in my drawer before I stand and walk out of my study. I have work to do.

PRESLEIGH

I sit on my bed; my momma sits behind me, brushing my hair. “Momma?” I break the silence.

“Hmm?” she asks.

“I …” I bite my bottom lip nervously.

“What is it, honey?”

Knotting my hands in my lap, I look down at them and close my eyes. “I heard a woman screaming.” The brush stops running through my hair. “It was late last night.” Silence fills the room, and my heart starts to pound. “I thought I was sleeping …” I ramble on. “But then I heard it again. It sounded like she was just down the hall. I left my room …”

She jumps off the bed and comes to stand in front of me. Her blue eyes are narrowed down at me, and my breath catches. “Where did you go?”

“I … uh …”

“Where?” she demands.

“I just wanted to help her,” I say, and my eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

She lets out a long breath and kneels in front of me. Both hands go to my face, and her eyes soften. “Those women don’t need help, honey.”

“I don’t understand. She was crying. Screaming for help. The closer I got, the more I heard—”

“No, Presleigh!” she interrupts me. Her hands fall from my face, and she runs one through her blond hair. “Some women were made to serve, darling.”

I frown. “Serve who?”

“Whoever wants them,” she answers simply. Giving me a soft smile, she adds, “Women need to know their place in this world. Some are meant to be loved. And some are meant to be used.”

“Avery loves me,” I blurt out.

She chuckles. “You’re only twelve, dear. You nor Avery know what love is.”

“I love Avery,” I tell her softly.

She lets out a long breath. “You were not meant for Avery, Presleigh. The sooner you realize that, the easier it will be on you.”

 

I open my heavy eyes and try to remember what she meant by that. I never figured it out, and she never told me. We never spoke about Avery in that way again. She knew how I felt but refused to acknowledge it. To her, he was too good for me. He was going to be a God who would one day carry on our family’s business—selling little girls and women. And I never heard another woman scream out for help. But it only took me two more years to understand what my father did to make that woman scream. And I wished more than ever at that point that I would have tried harder to save her.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of my door. I don’t know how I managed it, but I actually fell asleep last night. Exhaustion took over. Plus, whatever they shot into my neck has me sleeping more than usual.

“Good morning, Bunny,” Avery says happily.

I say nothing.

“Still mad at me, I see.”

“Fuck you, Avery!” I snap.

He comes beside the bed and starts petting my hair. I jerk my head away from him. Then he grips a fistful and yanks my head back and off the bed just like he did last night.

“Don’t,” he warns, glaring down at me. “Don’t make this harder than necessary, Bunny.”

“Then let me go.”

He sighs, full of disappointment that I won’t just accept my fate. “There is nowhere for you to go.”

My stomach sinks at that. I fight my restraints. “Just take me home, Avery.”

His hard blue eyes search mine, and after a long second, they start to soften. “You’re not safe there, Bunny.”

“I’m not safe here.”

“I assure you, you are. Trust me.”

Trust him? After everything I have been through because of him, he wants me to trust him? I can’t do it. But I really don’t have any other option either. I’m his prisoner. His slave.

He releases my hair, and my face falls to the bed. His hand trails down over my back and grips the chain that connects the cuffs. “Have you learned your lesson?”

I dig my face into the pillow. He slaps my ass when I don’t answer.

“Yes,” I grind out.

“Are you done trying to outsmart me?”

“Yes.” Lie! I’ll win … eventually. I wasn’t raised to be a quitter. He knows that.

“I don’t want to keep you tied to your bed, Bunny, but I will if I have to. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.” I shove my head into the bed again. Maybe I can suffocate myself to the point he’ll uncuff me, and then I’ll attack.

Then his hand trails lower and falls between my legs. I stiffen. I know his game. It wasn’t hard to figure out. He withholds sex and orgasms from me, but he can’t keep his hands off me. I can work that to my advantage. Plus, the need to be fucked is so great. I raise my hips to open myself up for him, already knowing just how far he will take it.

“Your pussy is wet like last time,” he muses. “Maybe you like being treated this way.”

My breath comes quicker as he slides a finger into me. “Please.” I beg like the good slave he wants me to be.

“Please what?”

“Let me come.”

He removes his finger, and I can’t hold back the growl of frustration.

“No,” he says simply.

Then I feel him undoing my ankles. “Turn over.”

I roll over and look up at him. Blue eyes that I used to love look so foreign now. Like a stranger just passing by. But anyone could see the clouds in them. The anger. The bloodlust. Even though he’s dressed in an expensive suit, he’s become an animal that craves madness.

“The rules still apply, Bunny. No touching yourself.”

“But …”

“Sit up,” he orders, and I do as he says. He reaches behind me and undoes my wrists. I prefer those over the ropes as they don’t get tighter as time goes by.

I rub them, and he stands to look down at me. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast.” Then he walks out.

I take my time in the bathroom. Mainly because my legs are sluggish and my body weak. Being punched in the face by a man three times my size and then being drugged along with being restrained all night will do that to you. Plus, I haven’t eaten much since I arrived here.

I use the restroom, brush my teeth, and put on a T-shirt along with yoga pants. The bastard brought all my clothes, which I’m thankful for, but that also means he went through my shit. Or he had someone else do it. Either way, I’m not happy about it.

I make my way down to the dining room, and he’s sitting there. His plate already cleared. He doesn’t acknowledge me as I sit down and stare at my food. My stomach is in knots for several reasons. One, I failed once again. And two, humiliation. Three, anger.

I want to kill him, but I also want to crawl up into a ball in the corner and cry my eyes out. But what will that solve? Growing up, my mother always told me tears will never change the outcome of any situation. People don’t care how you feel; they care about what you can do for them.

My mom was always strong. I never saw her cry, even when my grandparents died. I remember sitting at their funeral, and she told me, crying won’t bring them back, dear. It’ll only make your makeup run.

“You need to eat.”

Avery’s deep voice makes me jump, but I refrain from looking up at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“It wasn’t a question, Bunny.” He sighs as if I’m annoying him.

My eyes catch the silverware next to my plate. There’s a fork. Thoughts of using it to stab him enter my mind. I’ve never imagined hurting him until now. He no longer feels shit for me, so why should I feel anything for him? I couldn’t care less if the motherfucker lives or dies.

My hands sit in my lap, and I fist them, thinking how many ways it could be used to …

“Don’t even think about it, Bunny!”

My eyes snap up to meet his hard stare. I don’t deny it.

He places his forearms on the table and leans forward. “I’ve thought of every scenario you could possibly think of. And believe me when I say I have a punishment for each one.”

Fucking bastard.

His eyes look down at the fork and then back at me. “If you do anything with that fork besides feed yourself with it, I will tie you to that chair for every meal and feed you myself. Do you understand?”

My jaw clenches, but I find myself answering, “Yes.”

He nods once and then reaches over beside him. He grabs a folder and tosses it down to me. It lands on the table by my plate with a slap.

“What is this?” I ask.

“Open it,” he demands.

I do as he says and pick up the paper that sits on top. It has a picture of me and my name on it. I recognize the dress. It’s from last Friday. I had just been shopping with Alex earlier that day and wore it out that night. “What …?” I flip it over to see another piece of paper. Above it, it reads medical records. “Where did you get this?”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. A man like him has connections.

It shows my surgeries. All of them. My jaw tightens when I see car wreck. I guess it’s easy to forge anything these days. “You had no right …”

“Not that I’m complaining, but why did you choose to alter your body?” His eyes drop to my breasts.

I slap the folder shut and sit back, crossing my arms over my chest. “When did you decide to get a slave?” I ignore his question. “How many others have there been?”

He actually smirks at me. “You’re the first, Bunny.”

“Lucky me,” I snap.

He sits back in his seat. “I’m leaving for work. I trust you will behave yourself today?”

“What do you do for a living these days besides beat women?” I can’t help but ask.

He narrows his eyes on me. I think he’s about to reach across the table and slap me but instead he snaps his fingers. Darrell enters the room, and my jaw tightens as my heart speeds up. “I have given you too much freedom,” Avery says, “Darrell will accompany you anytime you are out of your room.”

I jump to my feet. “Absolutely not!” I snap.

“This is not up for negotiation.”

“Avery—”

“This is your doing,” he interrupts me, rising out of his chair. Much slower than I had.

I bite my tongue to keep from pissing him off. Or begging. Either one wouldn’t be good. But I refuse to get sent to the dungeon or whatever he fucking calls that room. It smelled of blood and death. And this Avery would definitely throw me down there without a second thought.

Fuck, I hate him!

He takes his suit jacket that hangs over the chair and slides it on. He buttons the middle button and walks around the table to me. “Men will be here today to fix your window.” I didn’t miss the fact that they had boarded it up while I floated in and out of consciousness from the drugs.

I stand rigid as he approaches. He comes to a stop and looks down at me. Sliding his hand into my hair, he pulls my head back. I glare up at him, hoping he sees the hatred in my eyes.

He leans in and lowers his lips to my ear. “Be a good girl for me, Bunny, and I will reward you.”

I hate how much I want him to do just that. I need a release. My body needs … something. My eyes close, and he places a soft kiss on my neck. And then he’s gone.

_______________

For four days, Avery has left me alone. He never came to see me after he got home from work that day. And a part of me was pissed that he didn’t reward me for being a dumb bitch and following his stupid rules.

But I finally feel back to myself—recharged. I haven’t been drugged, tied down, or beaten. I’ve even managed to eat every meal, though I prefer to remain in my room. But I did notice that Marvin even gives me a little more each time.

I am, however, going a little insane. I find myself pacing a lot. And plotting. I’ve imagined faking my death. And I’ve killed Darrell a hundred different ways. I don’t have much to work with in my room; the best I can come up with is taking the hair dryer cord and wrapping it around his neck and praying he doesn’t overpower me. But then there’s the fucking drugs they give me. They cloud my mind and make me too emotional. I’m no virgin when it comes to illegal drugs—I’ve smoked pot, snorted coke, done ecstasy, and God knows I’m an alcoholic—but whatever is in that syringe fucks me up. For days. I’ve thought about doing something wrong for Darrell to pull it out just so I can try to take it from him and shove it into his neck. But not sure how far that would get me.

If I somehow manage to take him down, I’ll be left with the rest of the men in the house. And that too will not end well for me. If I get caught and end up down in the dungeon, I’ll never get out. I need to avoid that place at all costs.

I sit cross-legged in my closet with the lights off. It’s gotta be late night, early morning because I had dinner hours ago. For some reason, I find the closet the best place to sit and think. When I’m in the bedroom or bathroom, my eyes always find that red blinking light, knowing he can watch my every move. Fuck him! If he wants to see what I’m doing, he can come and find me.

I sit in silence, my mind running so fast I’m having a hard time keeping up with it. Then a thought hits me. A phone. All I need is a phone. If I can get a hold of my brother, I’ve got a chance. And I know all the guys keep their cells on them. I’ve heard Darrell outside my room on his talking to Avery and others. Maybe I don’t need to escape. All I need is to make one phone call. But what will that phone call get me? Will Preston know where I’m at? If so, then why hasn’t he already come for me? If he doesn’t know where I’m at, then the risk will be for nothing. ’Cause I can’t tell him my location. I throw my head back and let out a sigh of frustration. There has to be a way. A sweet spot Avery didn’t think of. I just have to find it.

Getting up, I open the closet door and lie down on the bed. I’m starting to get tired. The only reason I know it’s night is because I have windows in this prison cell. They fixed the one I knocked out, and it makes me sad every time I look at it, knowing I failed. They also took the chair that I removed the leg from. I guess they were too afraid I’d use the other three.