Chapter
4

I rolled my tongue around, the thick, rough muscle caked against the roof of my mouth. My throat worked, but no saliva slid down to soothe the burn as I tried to force open my eyes. As I battled the nausea from my pounding head, I sat up on the soft mattress under me. Where was I? The darkened room with slits of sunlight pushing through window blinds wasn’t familiar. Rustic wood beams framed the sparsely decorated room. There were wrought iron chairs pulled up to a heavy wooden desk with chained manacles on each end.

“Oh my God.”

“Caesar, actually.”

I froze at his voice. Events of the night before sped through my mind. Matt. What happened to Matt?

“Is he alive?” I asked.

“The boy-toy? Yeah, he’s alive and kicking. He also understands the situation and is aware of what will happen if he comes knocking.”

I should be happy for that, excited that Matt had survived, but all I could think of was he hadn’t been strong enough to save me. All my fragile dreams shattered in just moments. Matt didn’t save me from the darkness swallowing me up. Trace. If Trace gave me up, what had happened to Tamara?

“What did Trace do?”

“He gave you to me.”

“Tamara, too?”

“The other girl Trace kept?” He shook his head when I nodded. “She didn’t make it.”

Didn’t make it.

The words throbbed into my head as a wail ripped from me. It didn’t matter, none of it did. She was gone. Her wide, blue eyes and bright smile floated in my mind—the pretty girl in school who wanted to come over for a sleepover. I kicked out, needing to get away. He was lying, fucking lying. Trace wouldn’t have killed Tamara, it was the only way he could control me. The only way he kept me coming home and letting Jason touch me. For her, it had all been for her.

“No,” I groaned.

“Cut it out,” Caesar demanded.

“You’re lying!” I raged. I jerked from him, the scratchy cover shuffling under me as I tried to get away.

Caesar grabbed my shoulders, pinning me to the bed under him. “I said,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, “cut it out.”

I bucked, arching my back painfully. I needed to get to her, keep her safe. The only thing she’d ever done was come to my home when I’d missed a few days of school. She’d pushed inside an open front door, worried something had happened to me, and found me on my hands and knees, Jason’s cock in my mouth and Trace rolling the camera. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I was dreaming. That she was still there, waiting for me.

“Look,” Caesar said.

I didn’t want to. I needed to stay in my mind, trapped, where I could almost feel her fingers in my hair. It’s grown so long, don’t ever cut it.

Please, still be alive. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs constricted and screamed.

“Open your damn eyes!”

Fire spread over my cheek, and I froze, my eyes flying open. A phone hovered in front of me, and the picture on the screen churned my stomach. My Tamara, her flaxen hair strawberry-blonde with strips of blood, stared sightlessly to nowhere.

“She’d been dead for hours before my guy made it there,” Caesar whispered.

I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Trace had stolen the one person in my life who had ever mattered, and I’d traded my freedom to save something that didn’t exist. My throat closed, and heated tears spilled down my cheeks. I never should have thought I could get away. Trace had gotten more out of me than I ever thought I’d have to give. I thought I’d been so strong, keeping him from killing Tamara and the money our father left me after he’d blown through his own by sticking a needle in his arm. And my mother? He’d kept her just as high, unaware of what he did to me.

I should have run away.

I forced myself to face my captor. Caesar pulled back and sat on the edge of my bed in black jeans and a loose, red-and-black flannel shirt. A multitude of vibrant artwork covered the tops of his hands and forearms before disappearing under his sleeves.

“Will you let me go?”

He shook his head. “It changes nothing.”

It changed everything. I wouldn’t be his. The urge to run away, to finally be free—hell, to die maybe—bubbled up inside of me. Unaware of my inner musings, Caesar lay back on the bed, resting his warm body against my legs and pinning me down. His pure lack of regard frightened me … and entranced me. My heart thundered and my lungs squeezed. His lopsided grin did things to my insides I didn’t want but couldn’t ignore. As his heat seeped into me, I shuddered away from his touch. But I wanted him. Lost, fucked over, stolen, and alone, I still wanted the man holding me captive to do horrible things to me. Why? Because I’d learned to crave that sort of darkness. Jason taught me there was a switch, deep inside me, that only pain could press. Only humiliation and horror could bring it to blazing light. The fact I wanted it with this uncaring monster made bile rise in my throat. He hadn’t tied me up but had stripped me of my pants and shirt. Clad in only demure white panties and bra, there wouldn’t be much cover if I ran, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

I needed him to hurt me so I could taste punishment. I’d failed Tamara. She’d waited so long while I’d whispered about our freedom. How, one day, we wouldn’t have to listen to what Jason and Trace needed from us.

“School is over for you, Ashlyn. You’ve been out for over twenty-four hours, Buttercup. We took care of withdrawing you from your courses, signing over your wealth to me, and moving you away from Valdosta in case you were worried about seeing your ex. I knew that would be hard for you.”

He taunted me with a smile as my stomach bottomed out. No, he was lying. He couldn’t have stripped everything that made me who I was. Someone out there was looking for me. They had to be.

“But you can run and try to get out. In fact, I want you to.”

He was crazy. Absolutely crazy. He sat up and stood. “Run, little pet. As fast as those beautiful, long legs can carry you.”

I heard the clink of his belt as he removed it and doubled the leather in a thick fist.

“Run!”

He swung toward me, and the leather bit my thigh. Pain blossomed over my nerve endings, stealing my breath and shooting me to my feet.

“You’re not running. Don’t you want to escape?”

He swung again, and the tail end of the belt kissed my ass. Before I could think, I ran, my feet slapping the cold floor with each step. Ripping through the log cabin, I darted out of the room and to the left, toward some stairs. I stumbled down them, Caesar’s booted steps echoing behind me, ever closer. Where to next? A wide-open living room confused me for a moment as I scanned for the front door. Three closed doors misled me.

“Center one, then through the next,” Caesar said, his voice booming, propelling me, as harsh as his next belt strike. My ass stung and tears slid down my face as I raced out the door he told me to, thankful when I reached an open front door.

The sun was sweet and warm on my chilled flesh as I raced over the short porch and down the stairs. My uncovered feet stung, but I kept running. I ignored the foliage and broken branches slicing into the bottoms of my feet. There was nothing for miles around—just trees and open land. The air smelled of vegetation, and wood and leaves crunched under my feet. So different from back home. Where was I? How far had he taken me?

I couldn’t hear Caesar anymore, but I didn’t care. Freedom was all that mattered. I worked my arms and ran straight forward as fast as I could. Behind me, somewhere in the distance, a motor started, kicking my heart into overdrive. Branches scratched my face and clung to the material of my bra, but I pushed through. With each step, my thighs burned and quaked.

Get out of here, Ash. You have to survive.

The motor got closer, the loud rumble echoing off the trees and slapping me in the face as Caesar raced by me on a dirt bike.

“Come on, pet. You can do better than that shit,” he called out to me.

I sobbed and pushed myself harder, but I could barely breathe and my head pounded. How far had I run? The similar surroundings made my head spin.

Another pass on the bike.

“Quitting is for losers.”

“What do you want from me?” I sobbed. Time slowed, and the ache in my feet got worse with each step. I couldn’t keep this up, no matter how long I tried.

“I want you to make this fun, or what the fuck is the point?”

Fun?

I stopped running, knowing it would be impossible to get away. He’d never intended for me to escape, and I’d blindly followed orders. Dirt and rocks spewed, pelting tree trunks in the melee as Caesar spun to a stop and leapt from the bike.

“Who told you to stop fucking running, huh? Run. Run!”

He punctuated each word with a menacing step until he stood before me. His body vibrated with leashed anger, his eyes snapped cold fire, and his mouth twisted in a scowl. “Are you fucking deaf?”

“You’re a lunatic!” I screamed. Pain. I didn’t care, not anymore. Trace had stripped me of the last person I cared about. My legs could barely hold my weight as I crumpled to the hard ground. How I’d ever found Caesar remotely beautiful just a day before when I’d run from my fiancé I couldn’t guess, but now his tattoos were death, his voice the instrument by which he’d slay me, and his curled fist the lullaby to fade into that deep slumber.

The monster froze before me, his face a mask of pure rage and hatred as he glared at me. In the deafening silence around us, leaves fell to the ground as my heart ricocheted in its cage and my captor pulled from the dark side of the sun. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he cracked his neck, holding his head at an awkward angle.

“What did you call me?”

His voice cut through my skull, sharp razors slicing into the white meat of my brain and leaving me unable to answer him. This wasn’t the laughing, cocky man from the movie theater, or the self-assured asshole who’d told me to run for his entertainment. No, the man before me was not a human made of flesh and bone but a marionette watching my every move.

“Nothing,” I whispered, scrambling backward. He terrified me, electrified me.

No. Not again.

Caesar came alive, rushing forward, and stomped on my hair. His thick, black boot took up my peripheral vision on the right side.

“No, no, no. The time for running has passed. I want you to repeat exactly what you said a moment ago. Failure to do so gets you fucked up, so I suggest you don’t mess with me right now. Well, who am I kidding? You’re fucked either way. Question is, Ashy Lashy, how fucked up do you want to be?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. My scalp ached where he’d pinned the hair to the ground, pulling at the root in big chunks. He sighed and shook his head before running his fingers through the thick strands of his hair.

“If you’re going to be a pussy, I’m just going to have to fuck you up until you know how to be stronger. You called me a lunatic. Own that shit or close your damn mouth.”

When he reached for me, I screamed, a blood-curdling sound that became trapped between us and mocked me. His face turned up and he opened his mouth wide, right in my face … and screamed.

“Ah! Somebody help me, please. Don’t let the bad man hurt me,” he teased.

Mimicking my expression, he leaned a bit closer. And then he smiled, his expression switching too fast for my watery gaze to keep up.

“Too late. In real life, evil wins.”