CHAPTER EIGHT

AVERY

I ENTER THE HOUSE AND head straight to my study. It’s where I spend most of my time if I’m not in the cellar or at the warehouse my brother Tristan and I own.

“Sir—” Marvin calls out the moment I walk through the front door.

“Not now.” I interrupt whatever he was about to say and make my way down the long hall. Entering my study, I slam the door behind me.

I sit down on my chair and lean back, running a hand down my unshaven face. It’s been a long fucking day. And night. But that’s nothing new. I’ve never been one who gets much sleep. Even as a kid, I never slept. Too many noises. Screams.

The door opens, and Marvin enters. “I said not now.”

He closes the door, ignoring me, and places his hands behind his back. “Miss Clarke did not eat her dinner.”

“Then she’ll starve,” I snap

He nods. “Very well.” He gives me his back and walks toward the door but pauses. “It’s none of my business, sir, but I don’t think you brought her here to die.”

I glare up at him. “You’re right. It’s none of your business.”

I reach over and put my password into my computer. Pulling up my security cameras, I look in on her in her room. She lies on her left side, her back facing the camera. The covers pulled up to her neck as if they can save her from the monsters. From me.

My cell rings in the quiet study, and I answer when I see it’s Tristan. “Hello?”

“We have movement at her house,” he informs me.

“Perfect.”

“And I’ve followed up with the local hospitals in New York. Preston hasn’t checked in at any.”

“He won’t.” I sit back in my seat. “He’ll seek treatment under the radar. Too many enemies looking for him to be out in the open.”

“What do we do?”

“We wait.” My brother has the patience of a fucking gnat. “Sit back and wait. He’ll either come for her or do his fucking job.”

“And if he comes for her?”

“He won’t get what he wants,” I answer. It’s that fucking simple.

I hang up, done with the conversation, and look back at her sleeping form. I recognize an empty bottle of scotch on her nightstand as the same bottle that was here in my study. I smile. She wandered around tonight. I wanted her to. I wanted her to see that her chance of freeing herself was nonexistent.

I press the buttons on the computer and mumble to myself. “Let’s see what all you did this evening.”

Going back to after our dinner, I see her storm into her bedroom. Her hair a ratted mess and only wearing her tank top. Her nipples are hard. She’s breathing heavy and looks around the room at a loss before heading into the bathroom. She slams it shut as well and locks it. My smile grows. As if that would keep me out. She removes her shirt and starts taking a shower. She falls to her knees and buries her head into her hands and screams. Then she quits. She’s still hunched over, breathing heavy, shielding her face from me. Then she sits up and her hands go to her boobs. My brows lift when they lower. She spreads her legs wider and then her hand disappears between them. She throws her head back, and my cock hardens while I watch her finger fuck herself. Her eyes land on the camera, and she freezes, remembering what I said I’d do to her if she touched herself. Just when I think she’s gonna stop, she smiles up at it and finishes herself off.

I turn off the screen and sit back. This Presleigh has some fire to her. The old Bunny I knew would have never dared to do something that would get her into trouble. She preferred to stay unseen.