by Dori Lavelle
“We have a new home for you,” he says. “It was your sister’s idea.”
My stomach clenches as Christa glances at me, a soft frown between her eyebrows.
Please forgive me, I say inside my head, hoping the words will somehow reach her.
I wish I could do something about this, change the turn of events. But Dax has made it clear he won’t change his mind. If I keep pushing, he might kill her instead.
He ushers both of us outside and into the truck. Within minutes, we’re at the stables and my eyes are on the shed he was talking about. Unfortunately, it’s made of brick rather than some other material—such as wood—that could be destroyed easily to create an escape.
Dax throws open the door and shoves Christa inside. There’s a dirty, silver bowl on the floor. He pours the water he brought with him into it. Most of it spills onto the floor. I can barely breathe as I watch him wrestle her to the ground and unlock the handcuffs. He also removes the tape from around her mouth.
He leaves her lying there, her eyes panicked as she meets my gaze.
Dax slams the door shut and locks it from outside to break our contact. Christa’s screams cut through the air and slice through my heart.
Standing heartbroken outside the door, unable to reach her, I renew my promise. I won’t let her die. I will do whatever it takes.
Dax bundles me back into the truck and drives off. As the vehicle jumps over potholes, I cry uncontrollably.
“I don’t get why you’re upset,” he says, his eyes on the path ahead. “It was your idea.”
“No.” Tears fly everywhere as I shake my head. “It was not my idea to lock her in the shed, to wait for her to die.”
“But you wanted us to be alone. You and me with no one else interfering in our love life. From now on, that’s how it will be.”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from saying anything more.
Fine. I’ll do whatever he wants. I’ll be the best wife. But secretly, I’ll be working on a plan that will blow his mind. The countdown as far as I’m concerned has just started.
It’s over for Dax Pierce. Someone is going to die, and it won’t be my sister. I’ll kill him before she dies of dehydration. He has dug his own grave.
I’m prepared to become a monster to fight the monster.
When we get back to the house, he throws me onto the couch. I’m still unable to stop the tears. I pull up my legs and rest my chin on my knees, my tears dripping onto my flesh and trickling down my skin.
“This is ridiculous,” he shouts, pacing the room. “How can you have a new family when you’re still linked to the old one? We’re married, for God’s sake.”
I still don’t waste my breath reasoning with him. I have done enough damage.
In between the sobs, I imagine hearing Christa’s voice from a distance. But it’s impossible. She’s too weak to scream so loud. The only reason I’m hearing her is because we’re connected. Her pain is my pain. Her tears are my tears.
It will not be long until it’s over, until I get her out of there. I have to find the best way to finish Dax off. I can’t wait to look him straight in the eye when he perishes.
By locking Christa up that way, he has completely changed me. As I sit on the couch, trembling with rage, I can barely recognize the person I have become.
The old Emma is gone for good. I hope he’s ready to fight the new version of me. This version is not afraid to kill for survival.
I spend the next hours doing what he wants. I wipe away the tears and give him smiles I don’t mean.
“You were right,” I say after breakfast. “I do like that we’re alone.”
He reaches out his hands and pulls me from the chair and into his arms. “I’m glad you now see why I had to do it.”
“Yes,” I nod. “I get it now.”
He kisses me hard on the lips and I kiss him right back, giving him the kiss of death.
The rest of the day, I pretend to be his wife, as I had planned. I show him the affection he craves in every way possible. I don’t fight him once.
In the evening, he brings a portable hot plate to the kitchen from the basement. He had it down there all along while he forced my sister to cook over an open fire? What an ass.
I cook dinner while he lights the candles. He really believes that this fake romance is real.
As we eat, I watch the candlelight flickering on his face. When he smiles, I smile back. It’s one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life.
“I love you, Emma, so much.” He brings a glass of water to his mouth and takes a swig, his eyes never leaving my face.
I finish chewing before lying to him. “I love you too, Dax.”
When dinner is over, he pulls me out of my chair and sweeps me off my feet. This time, when he lays me in bed, he doesn’t handcuff me. But he locks the doors and windows, so there’s still no way for me to get away.
Chapter Thirteen
When Dax wakes up in the morning, his cock is deep in my mouth, hardening as I suck on it. I’ve never been a great fan of blow jobs, but this is a matter of life and death. I’m willing to pay whatever price it takes to get our freedom back. Last night, it dawned on me that I can use his weakness to get what I want.
My eyes are closed, my hands moving up and down his shaft. I don’t need to look at him to know he’s watching me.
He grunts and stretches out his legs, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Look who’s keeping her end of the bargain. This is a nice little treat.” His voice is thick with sleep.
I’m glad to be occupied so he doesn’t expect a response from me. I continue to move my mouth up and down his hardness while circling it with my tongue at the same time.
“Yes. That’s it, baby.” He moves his hand to my head and pushes himself deeper into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I do my best to avoid gagging and tell myself it will all be over soon.
I continue pleasuring him until his body jerks and stiffens, and he comes into my mouth. I would’ve preferred to spit out his cum, but instead I swallow.
There’s so much on the line right now. One little mistake and everything could blow up in my face. He can never know that I’m fooling him, that I have a plan.
Whatever happens, I cannot allow myself to be thrown into the dungeon. Not because of the snakes, but because time spent there would be wasted. Every second of my time should be spent working on my plan of escape.
He trusts me again, enough to keep the handcuffs off. I can’t mess this up.
He’s grinning from ear to ear as he pulls me to himself and kisses me. Minutes pass with him still holding me. For a split second, my body almost remembers how it used to be, when I loved him. But I shut the memories down before they cloud my mind.
“Come on, let’s take a shower together.” He gets up from the bed and takes me by the hand. Inside the shower, he washes my body, taking his time, paying attention to every part of me. When he gets to my vagina, I cringe inwardly. Shit. His dick is hard again.
What was the point of waking him up with a blow job? My intention had been to make him come so he wouldn’t want to fuck me, at least for a while.
Thankfully, my fears don’t materialize. He simply rinses off the soap he has spread across my skin, then moves on to my head to wash and massage my scalp.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to finish. Every time he touches my head I remember everything that happened on the yacht. When he shaved me, he didn’t only steal my hair. He stole everything. My locks were a symbol of all the good things he destroyed in my life.
Soon he washes himself as well and steps out of the shower. He hands me a towel and takes one for himself. We get dressed in silence.
Instead of the dress I had been wearing, he gives me one of his white shirts. It looks like a mini dress on me.
“You make it look sexy,” he says as he buttons it up.
Still in a good mood after what happened in bed, he makes us breakfast.
His good mood
stays with him the rest of the day. Every chance he gets he touches my breast or my ass. He enjoys having me at his fingertips.
It’s torture to carry a fake smile on my face the entire day while inside I’m coming undone. But it’s what I’ve got to do. I don’t even mind the cleaning, because now it has a purpose. Everything I’m doing now is for a reason. I’m determined that this will be the best performance of my life. It has to be.
The only hiccup is that his fear of me running away is still there. To prevent that from happening, when he’s not watching me like a hawk, he locks me inside every room that I have to clean, only letting me out when I’m done. I appreciate the space.
Without him in the room, I have the opportunity to search in peace for objects that could prove useful to me later. Every cupboard and drawer I open could be hiding something that could aid in my escape—a toilet brush, a hanger, a pumice stone, anything. Since I can’t take anything back with me to the bedroom I simply gather them in one place in each room to retrieve when I get the chance.
Once my work is done for the day, he asks me to take a break.
“You’ve been working all morning,” he says. “Come and eat lunch. I cooked spaghetti.”
Looks can be deceiving. From the outside, we look like any normal couple, enjoying a day together. A stranger would never guess that there’s a darkness looming above us.
After lunch, Dax does a bit of work on the farm, tending to the horses, repairing the chicken coop, and other farm tasks that require his attention. Every time he works, he wants me to be near him, to keep him company. I don’t mind following him around, except when he takes me to the stables near the shed that houses Christa.
While he tends to the horses, I strain my ears to listen for any kind of sound coming from the shed. Nothing.
Cold fingers of dread touch my spine, but I don’t allow the fear to show on my face. He doesn’t even glance at the shed. To him, it’s as though my sister does not even exist.
Please God, let her be all right. I hope that the reason she’s quiet is because she’s sleeping. She won’t be in there for long. I plan to carry out my plan within a day or two, if not sooner. Every second counts.
“How are you, my love?” Dax asks when we later sit by the lake that cuts through the property, watching ducks gliding over the sparkling water.
“Fine.” I clasp my hands together in my lap. “I’m okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that. By the way, how do you like farm life so far? Is it as hard as I warned you it would be?” He tosses a piece of bread into the water for the ducks to enjoy while Christa starves.
“It’s a little hard,” I say. It’s best to keep my true thoughts and feelings to myself. “But I can handle it.”
“Come on, you don’t have to lie to me. I grew up on a farm. I know how much work it can be. It must be particularly hard for you, especially since you don’t have most of the luxuries you were accustomed to.”
“You’re right. It takes a little getting used to.” I pause for a long time. “Are there any other farms nearby?”
“Not really. This property is pretty isolated. That’s what I liked about it. The closest thing is a gas station but it’s quite a drive away.”
Disappointment tears through me. How would we be able to make it to safety if there’s no immediate place for us to hide or anyone to turn to for help?
I’m desperate to ask him where exactly we are, but I know he would not be happy about that. I keep my mouth shut and we feed the ducks in silence, with me wishing I could give the bread to Christa instead. I imagine her lying in the middle of the shed, curled up in a ball, broken by hunger and thirst.
I clear my throat. “Dax, don’t you think we should give Christa some more water?” I know what the answer will be before I get it, but I had to try.
“No.” His tone is sharp. “I already told you that she was not getting any more water than what I already gave her.”
“Do you really want her to die?” I chew on my inner cheek. “There are other ways to get her out of the way. Death doesn’t have to be the answer.”
“There’s no other way, my love.” He takes my hand in his and squeezes. “You have to understand that this is the best decision for both of us. We have to learn to live with it. Just pretend she’s gone already. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Are we ever going back to the city?” I ask, changing the subject.
“We don’t need to. We have it pretty great here. If we run out of any supplies, my pilot will bring us more. We’ll be happier without the city life, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” I force a smile even though I’m drowning in grief. “I guess so.”
“That’s my girl.” He rewards me with a smile. “We have everything we need. We have each other. I plan to spend every moment of my life with you,” he says, kissing my cheek.
“Me too.”
“I love the sound of that.” He gets up from the bench. “We should get back to the house. It will get dark soon.” He pulls me to my feet and we hold hands on the way to the farmhouse.
He cooks dinner and tells me I will be his dessert. We’ve already had sex twice today and I’m not in the mood for more. It hurts just thinking about having him inside of me again.
I’m surprised when we get to bed that he doesn’t actually make love to me. Instead, he undresses me and himself, then he lies next to me, his arms tight around my body, our bodies pressed against each other. He holds me until he falls asleep.
I try to move away from him, but he tightens his arms around me to keep me in place. Even asleep, he has so much power over me.
Chapter Fourteen
I’m locked inside the bathroom connected to our bedroom while Dax is in the room on the other side of the wall. He called it his office and I’m not allowed inside. He mentioned that he has some work to do and I should clean to occupy myself. He has been away for quite some time.
Even though every surface is clean, I continue to scrub. I’m glad he’s not around me. He was by my side for most of the day and I was desperate to be alone. Being alone means not having sex with him, and I don’t have to look in his eyes and lie to him.
Every time I tell him a lie, I fear I will be caught. So far, I’ve been lucky, but for how long? I can’t handle it any longer. I already intend to carry out my plan before the day is over. But I’m afraid I might fail. That’s why I needed to be alone so I can gather up the courage to act.
He told me that once I’m done I should call for him or knock on the door, so he can let me out. But I keep hesitating.
Feeling as though a weight is pushing down on my shoulders, I sink to the edge of the bathtub and drop my head into my hands. The headache I’d been carrying since morning is determined to torment me.
After counting to a hundred, I push myself to my feet and take a step toward the door. Then the sound of voices seeps through the wall. I know there’s no one visiting us, so he must be talking on the phone and the other person is on speaker.
Seeing his phone or hearing him make a phone call always gives me hope. He has kept an open line to the outside world and soon I’ll be able to get in touch with someone who can help me.
Curious about his conversation, I climb into the wet bathtub and press my ear against the wall. It still surprises me how thin these walls are. That’s why I was able to hear Christa crying from her room.
“What the fuck is going on, Dax?” The voice that makes it through to my ears is deep and has a German accent attached to it. “Why are you not returning any of our calls?”
“I’ve been busy.” Dax’s voice sounds wary. He doesn’t sound like he’s in the mood for conversation.
“Sure you are. The killing spree must be going perfectly.” There’s a pause. “We know about everything you’ve been up to. What happened to reporting back to us?” The man sounds as though he’s speaking through clenched teeth. “You’re playing a risky game, man. You are getting out of hand. Kill the bitch and get it
over and done with.”
“No,” Dax says louder than I’m sure he intended to be. “I can’t kill this one.”
“Why not? You’ve killed others, many others.” The stranger’s tone is coolly disapproving.
“I love her, all right? I love this one more than the others. She’s my wife.”
“And that’s exactly the problem. When you joined the club, we warned you not to bring your heart into the game. If you recall, that was rule number one.”
“The damn club does not control me,” Dax retorts. “I’m still my own person, I make my own rules.”
“Not if you’re one of us. As a member, you follow the rules or else we eliminate you.”
As I listen to the words exchanged, alarm bells go off inside my head. I have a feeling I’m about to find out some of Dax’s deepest, darkest secrets. It scares the hell out of me.
“What the fuck are you trying to say to me?” His voice is raw and dusty.
“I’m saying you have two choices here. All the members agree that you’re putting the club at risk. Either you kill her, or we will destroy you.”
Dax laughs out loud, but there’s an obvious strain to the sound. “What will you do, kill me?”
“Eventually. But first we will destroy your reputation. All the secrets you’re hiding will come out into the light.”
“What secrets?”
“Come on, don’t act stupid. We all know you didn’t write that New York Times bestseller that took you to Hollywood. Ragged Waves is the title, am I right? I’m actually holding a copy in my hands right now.”
In the silence that follows, I press my ear even harder against the wall, my heart pounding so hard it’s difficult to hear.
“You thought we didn’t know, didn’t you?” It’s the other man’s turn to chuckle. “You’re terrible at covering up your mess.”
“You know nothing,” Dax barks, but I catch the tremble at the edge of his words.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Hollywood. We also know you have way more to hide. When you joined the club, you only told us about one murder. How about the others? You didn’t only kill your father. You killed the writer of the manuscript you stole. You—”