Table of Contents
SLAUGHTER
COPYRIGHT
WARNING-CRISIS HOTLINE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE TWO
I DARE YOU
CONTACT THE AUTHOR
TITLES BY SHANTEL TESSIER
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For more information about the author and her books, visit her website- www.shanteltessierauthor.com. You can sign up for her newsletter on her website, or you can click on the link below. The newsletter is the only place to get exclusive teasers, first to know about current projects and release dates. And also have chances to win some amazing giveaways- http://goo.gl/4wd9CV
Editor: Jenny Sims
Formatter: CP Smith
Cover Designer: Tracie Douglas with Dark Water Covers.
Warning
Although this book is a work of fiction, it is not for everyone. Slaughter is a dark romance and contains disturbing scenes, sensitive subjects including dubious consent, and violent sexual situations. If you feel like you or someone you know needs help, please contact the following number.
24/7/365 Crisis Hotline
Call: 1(800)273-8255
Text: “Answer” to 839863
PROLOGUE
PRESLEIGH
Fifteen years old . . .
“FIVE …”
I run down the stairs, looking over my shoulder to see if he’s following me. With every step I take, my loud feet give my location away in the large and silent house.
When I hit the landing, I grip the brown wooden banister and use it to spin myself around. I drop to my knees, my jeans allowing me to slide on the tile and yank open the little door that isn’t visible to the naked eye. You have to know it’s there.
“Four …”
I quickly crawl inside the small space and pull the door closed. Placing my back against the interior wall, I pull my knees to my chest. It’s dark in the small, confined space. I clamp my hand over my mouth to quiet my heavy breathing as my heart races.
He’ll find me. The question is how long before he does?
“Three …”
His voice booms through the thick walls, and I have a moment of panic. I should have run outside. At least then I could have kept running. Now I’m trapped.
“Two …”
My knees start to shake, and my heart pounds. My head snaps up when I hear his footsteps on the stairs I’m hiding underneath. His aren’t rushed like mine were, though. He’s taking his time, drawing it out.
He chuckles. “You’re terrible at hiding, Bunny. You know I always find you.”
He’s right. You would think after years of practice, I’d be a little better. Smarter. But then again, maybe I want to be found.
I hear his shoes hit the tile and then silence. I look straight ahead at where I know the trap door is. I can’t see it, but I can almost hear him breathing on the other side.
“One …” The door is yanked open, and a set of blue eyes stare into mine as he kneels in front of my hideout. “I found you, Bunny.”
I drop my hands and stretch out my legs. “That’s not fair,” I whine.
“What’s not fair? You always hide in the same spot.” He gives me his winning smile. The one I’m in love with.
When he reaches his hand in, I take it, and Avery pulls me out. “Plus, you’re getting a little too big to fit in there.”
I gasp at that statement and shove him. He grabs my wrists and pulls me against his chest. His right hand caresses my cheek, and it makes me blush. “I found you, Bunny. You know what that means?”
I smile shyly and drop my head. My heart pounds just as hard as it did when I was hiding from him. Only for a different reason now.
His fingers grip my chin gently, and he raises my head, forcing me to look up at him. “You’re not playing fair,” I say, nervousness starting to bubble up in my stomach.
“I never do.”
His lips come down on mine and give me a sweet kiss. I open my lips for him to deepen it when he pulls away from me quickly, leaving me disappointed.
“Get out of here, Vaughn!” he barks.
I look over to see his older brother standing at the other end of the hall. He’s holding a video camera, recording us.
“Go ahead, Avery,” he taunts. “Show me what you were going to do to her.” He pulls the camera away from his face and winks at me.
Avery stiffens. “Go upstairs, Bunny. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“But—”
“Go!” he orders, interrupting me.
Vaughn lifts his chin and puckers his lips to blow me a kiss. “Yeah, go wait upstairs for me, Bunny. Make sure to undress before you crawl into my bed.”
Avery runs straight for him. He clocks him in the face, making Vaughn fall back onto his ass. The video camera hits the tile with a clank.
“I’ve warned you, asshole!” Avery growls.
“Come on, bro. I’ll share any of my women with you,” Vaughn continues.
“Keep your hands off her!”
“ENOUGH!”
I take a step back, hitting the wall I was just hiding in, when their father enters the hallway and yanks Avery off Vaughn. “You two knock it off,” he orders.
My father chooses that time to join us, and I pull my shoulders back when he glares at me with his dark brown eyes. There’s only one reason he’s here. And it’s not good. “What did you do?” he demands.
I open my mouth to answer, but Vaughn beats me to it. “We were just playing around.”
I say nothing, and Avery glares at him.
“Well, knock it off,” their father orders. Then he turns to Avery. “Meet me in the cellar in ten.”
I swallow nervously, and my stomach knots up at his words. The cellar? We all know what he does down there. That’s why my father is here. They are in business together. They sell anything and everything. Drugs, guns
, people. Well, more like girls. I was born into a world where anything can be for sale for the right price. No matter what. They will strip you of the life you know and bind you to an eternity of servitude.
Slavery.
“Yes, sir,” Avery says with a nod and then he walks over to me, grabs my hand, and drags me up the stairs I had just run down.
Shoving me into his room at the end of the hall, he slams the door shut behind us. “You should go home,” he says with a sigh.
My chest tightens at his words. I hate it there. “But I wanna stay here with you. We were gonna watch a movie,” I remind him.
He runs a hand through his dark hair nervously and takes a step back from me. “That was before my father wanted me to join him.”
Placing my hands on his forearms, I lick my lips. “Just don’t go …”
“You know I can’t do that, Bunny!” he snaps, pulling away from me.
I wrap my arms around myself. “Do you enjoy it?” I ask, my voice barely over a whisper.
He reaches out and pulls me to him. “Look at me,” he orders. I slowly lift my eyes to meet his, and they look down at me with concern. “I’m not like them,” he tells me. “And you know that.”
I bite my bottom lip. “But you—”
“Play my part,” he interrupts me. “I do what I need to do. Just a few more years. Once you graduate, we are out of here. Together.” He wraps his arms around my waist. “It’ll be me and you, Bunny.” He lowers his forehead to mine, and whispers, “All I need is you.” Then he seals that promise with a kiss.
CHAPTER ONE
AVERY
Thirteen years later . . .
MY FATHER ONCE TOLD ME that a man who wants, takes. He said, boy, a woman will fear you, and men will respect you if you’re willing to do what it takes in order to get what you want. Deserve. His hands were covered in blood at the time—not his—and he had a smile on his face as if he was sharing some family secret.
I hate that the sorry bastard was right.
I have taken a lot over my thirty years. Lives included. It’s what I do. I take. And take. And take. I never ask permission and have no regrets. My father raised me, after all.
He was all me and my brothers had. I’m the middle son. My mother walked out on us when I was five. She’d had enough of her marriage to a sick, twisted man and three boys who were going to grow up just like him. She had no hope, and we were all damned.
I don’t blame her. Who could? My father was the devil. And the fucker is still alive to this day, working with his demons to rule the world. The only thing I hate is that I grew up just like him. It was inevitable, I guess. And the sad part is, I wouldn’t change my life if I could.
“Just fucking kill me,” the man by the name of Marc growls.
“Not until you tell me what I need to know.” I place my hands in the pockets of my black dress slacks and look down at him. He thrashes in the chair but isn’t going to go far. I put four-inch nails through both his hands, securing him to the chair the moment he arrived.
“I know nothing,” he snaps.
“I don’t believe you.”
He looks up at me—well, the best he can. His right eye is swollen shut thanks to my fist. “I’m telling you the truth.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “The truth is you’re lying.”
“I am not!” he shouts.
I arch a brow at his tone, and he cowers. I smile. “I …”
A knock comes on the door, and I walk over to it, yanking the heavy steel open. “I said don’t disturb me …”
“You have a call, sir,” Kayn, my head of security announces, holding my cell out to me.
I let out a sigh of annoyance and yank the phone from his grasp. I look down to see it’s a blocked number. Not good.
“Hello?”
“We’ve got a problem,” the male’s voice informs me.
“I’m listening.” Kayn moved to stand in front of the guy I have nailed to the chair.
“Preston fucked up.”
My jaw tightens. “How bad?” The bastard is a thorn in my side. Has been since we were kids.
“Bad enough that his sister is in danger.”
And just like that, my already sour mood turns deadly. My hand clenches the cell, and my jaw tightens. “What kind of danger?” I growl.
“I have a reliable source that says she’s on Damon’s radar.”
Fuck!
“Where is she?” I demand, knowing what I have to do. It’s not even a question.
“New York.”
“I’ll call my pilot and get my jet ready—”
“No,” he interrupts me. “That is not your job, Avery. You take care of Preston. Presleigh is on her own.”
“I’ll take care of Preston, but she is—”
“Insignificant,” he argues, interrupting me again.
I bow my head and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I say nothing, he continues. “I mean it, Avery. Take care of Preston and Preston only.”
Click.
I place the cell in my pocket and then turn to look at the man still sitting in the chair. “You have one chance to tell me where the fuck Damon is!” If I can get him, then I won’t have to save her. There’s a reason she isn’t in my life anymore, and I’d like to keep it that way.
“I don’t know …”
“Okay, let’s play it your way.” I grab a pair of pliers off the wooden table next to me and then turn back, grabbing his head. “If you’re not gonna talk, then you don’t need your tongue.”
He looks up at me wide-eyed. “I’ve heard how sick you are. They say everyone should be afraid of you.”
“Rightfully so.”
“I swear …” He thrashes in the chair, causing blood to pour from his hands secured by the nails, and he grits his teeth to keep from crying out like a baby. “I know nothing …”
“Kayn, hold his head,” I order.
He walks behind Marc and reaches down to grab his chin and yanks his head back, securing it in place.
“Open!” I demand.
He tries to shake his head, but it’s impossible with Kayn’s iron grip on him.
I grab his nose and pinch it, taking away his air. When he opens his lips to suck in a breath, I shove the pliers in, and he starts to mumble around the cold metal when I grab his tongue. Blood instantly fills his mouth from the instrument of torture.
“I think he’s trying to talk to you, sir,” Kayn observes.
I pause and look into the man’s watery brown eyes. “Are you going to give me something useful?”
He blinks rapidly and tears roll down his face. Pathetic!
Everyone dies eventually. I was taught to die with dignity.
I pull away, and Kayn releases his head. He bends forward and spits blood onto my concrete floor and some of it lands on my shoes. He heaves in breath after breath, bending over.
“You’re wasting my time.” I grunt.
“Cuba.” He gasps. “Damon’s in Cuba.”
I tap the pair of pliers against my right thigh. “I already know that. Give me something else.”
He shakes his head, still looking down at the concrete floor. Blood runs from his mouth just like his hands. “That’s all I know. He keeps us in the dark for this very reason.”
I need more than that! Her life is on the line. Just the thought of her has my heart beating faster. It’s been eleven years since I’ve seen her last. I was nineteen, her seventeen. We were just kids still.
I fist my left hand at that thought. I don’t even have to count the years. My mind just knows. My heart also remembers how she stomped on it.
“How does he contact you?” I growl.
“Burner phone. He calls us on it, and then we destroy it afterward.”
Hmm. Not helpful.
What am I gonna do? She’s in trouble.
I blink. Don’t think about her. But like an unexpected storm, she starts to flood my thoughts.
Laughter fills my ears as
the prettiest blue eyes stare up at me. Her blond hair fans out over her pillow. Soft hands wrap around my neck, and she pulls me down to her. “I love you, Avery,” she whispers against my lips.
“I love you too, Bunny …”
“Avery?” Kayn snaps.
I take a step back and look up at him. I blink, then look down at the man I was in the middle of torturing when I got that phone call.
I need more than that!
“There’s a woman. Her name is Presleigh Clarke. Have you heard of her?” I demand. Saying her name out loud almost brings me to my knees.
He looks up at me, and for the first time since I dragged him down to the cellar of my house, he looks utterly surprised.
He knows something.
He seems to regain his composure and starts shaking his head quickly.
I punch him in the face so hard his head snaps back, more blood pouring out of his mouth and now nose, his hands still nailed to the chair.
“She doesn’t … belong to him,” he says, trying to breathe through his busted nose.
I lean down and grip his neck, the pliers still in my free hand. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Damon would never go after her,” he chokes out.
He’s playing me. “I have heard otherwise.”
He coughs, and it makes his entire body shake. “He has men on her …”
Fuck! Fuck! “He what?” My jaw clenches. “How fucking long?”
He closes his heavy eyes, and I slap him.
“How fucking long?” I shout, hating to repeat myself.
He whispers, “Six months now.”
I drop the pliers on the concrete floor at his words and run a hand through my hair. “No.” That’s all I can think to say.
Six months?
For six fucking months, Damon has had his men watching the woman I used to love?
How did I not know this? Why do you even care is the more important question.
I look at Marc while I feel Kayn’s eyes on me but choose to ignore him. “But you said he won’t go after her?” I ask.
He shakes his head quickly, and blood flies in the air.
“Why would he watch her but not touch her?” I ask myself out loud. It doesn’t make sense.
SLAUGHTER Page 1