SLAUGHTER

by Tessier, Shantel

  “Which is?” she snaps.

  I love how she doesn’t even try to hide her hatred for me. It’s effortless and refreshing and makes me want her even more.

  I’ll let her get away with it at the moment since I just came twice. “That I fucking own you.”

  PRESLEIGH

  Sixteen years old

  I sit in the game room sipping on a Zima. I look around for Avery. I don’t know where he went. Tristan came in here and whispered something in his ear, and then they both ran out without a word to anyone.

  “Hey, Presleigh,” his friend says, coming over to me.

  “Hey, Mitch.”

  “What’s with the long face?” he asks, sitting down next to me on the couch.

  “Did you see where Avery went?” No point in hiding my concern.

  “Vaughn got into a fight out back. He and Tristan went to break it up.”

  I roll my eyes. Of course, their older brother, Vaughn, got into a fight. He does it all the time. The boy is so annoying. I don’t even know why he still lives at home. He’s two years older than Avery. He should be off at college, but instead of going off to school, he decided to stay home with his dad and help him with the “family business.” Sickening.

  “Wanna play some pool? Avery was my partner, and it’s his turn.”

  I chuckle. “I don’t know how to play.”

  His soft green eyes widen in surprise. “What? Avery hasn’t taught you how?” I shake my head. “Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me from the couch. I laugh as he brings me over to the pool table. “Here.” He takes my Zima and replaces it with a pool stick. Setting my drink on the ledge, he comes to stand behind me. He places one hand on my right arm and the other on my back. He gently pushes me forward, making me lean over the side, and wraps my right hand around the stick and then his hand closes over mine.

  I look at him over my shoulder, getting uncomfortable. “Mitch …”

  “Come on, Presleigh. I don’t wanna lose. Avery and I bet on this game.”

  I let out a sigh and look back over the cue ball. He lines my stick up with it. “See the striped five? You want to get it over in the left corner pocket.”

  I nod my head once with confidence. “Right,” I say, acting as if I fucking know what he’s talking about.

  “Line it up …” He pulls back the stick, and I bite my bottom lip, closing my left eye. He presses his hips into my ass, and I suck in a breath of surprise.

  “Mitch!”

  He pushes my hand forward just as his name is called out. I stand straight up when I hear Avery’s voice. Spinning around, I take a step to the side just as Avery’s fist connects with Mitch’s face.

  I storm into the bathroom once again, stripping off my shirt. It’s all I’m dressed in since I left my shorts downstairs in the formal dining room. Opening the shower door, I get in and slam it behind me.

  I turn on the water and then fall to my already bruised knees and bend over. As I place my face in my hands, my screams of frustration quickly turn to sobs.

  My fingers tingle from the blood circulation returning, and my hips hurt from the table. My head still throbs, and the bastard didn’t even offer me any Advil. Now my mouth is sore from his cock fucking it. And his taste lingers.

  But I can handle all of that.

  It’s the throbbing between my legs that has me in tears. I’m not a sex addict per se, but I have to get off.

  I place my hand between my thighs and push a finger into myself. My other hand reaches up to massage my breasts. Closing my eyes, I try to concentrate on my body and calm my tears. I won’t let him do this to me.

  Edging? I have never heard of it before. But when he explained it, I knew where he learned it. From our fathers. The sick bastards would use it to control their slaves. To make them beg them to come. To make them feel in control. And he is not! I control myself, my body!

  He’s crazy to get me that close and then think I can wait all night. And that’s if he lets me get off when he gets home.

  My thumb runs over my clit, and I whimper, opening my eyes. I freeze when I see a camera in the corner. It looks down at me. A red light glows, and I swallow the shame when I feel him watching me.

  I fucking own you.

  No! You don’t!

  He did once, and it ended up costing me everything. I’m not gonna let him do this to me again. No matter what he says, this is my body, and I’m going to do whatever I want to it.

  I allow my head to fall back again as my fingers begin to work in and out of me. My pussy is soaked from my arousal and his cum. And I remember how he took me. So dominant, controlling, and all man. And it disgusts me that I actually liked it.

  That sensation starts to build. My breath comes faster, and my knees push farther apart. I’m already so close. Within seconds, I come with a soft cry on my lips. My head falls forward, and my chest heaves with my breathing. I give the camera a smile before I stand on shaky legs and place my head under the showerhead.

  A smug smile forms on my lips.

  You don’t control me, Avery. I’ll prove it to you.

  After my shower, I make my way into the closet again, avoiding that damn bunny. I find a black dress that is off the shoulders and down to my knees. The material is slinky and cool against my skin.

  I decide against shoes since I’m not allowed to go anywhere. Although he left for work, the house is full of men. I remembered two of them from the other night, and I know they have orders to do whatever is necessary to keep me in line. If I’m gonna have any chance at getting free, I gotta play this smart. I make my way to my bedroom door and open it. Stepping out into the hallway, I decide to go looking around the house.

  He said I couldn’t run. He never said I couldn’t explore the house.

  I open every door I come to and find nothing but bedrooms. They all look the same with large beds and bare walls. The closets and bathrooms all are empty, so it makes me wonder who occupied mine before he brought me here.

  I make my way down to the first floor and find an office. It’s got a big black desk that’s sits to the right with a fireplace across from it and a bookshelf to the left. A glass coffee table sits in the middle with a black leather couch and two high-back chairs. He must spend a lot of time in here.

  I smile when I see the computer on his desk. I practically run over to it and sit down at the desk. I press the enter key, and the screen illuminates. I frown when it requires a password. Of course. I go to type out his name but then stop, my fingers hovering over the keys. He probably has it set up to alert him when someone types in the wrong one. Avery never was an idiot like Preston.

  I reach over and grab the phone that sits on his desk. Line dead. “Fuck!” I shove it to the floor. I yank on all the drawers to the desk, but they’re all locked.

  Letting out a growl, I sit back and blow the loose strands of hair from my face in annoyance. What the hell am I supposed to do? Does he really expect me to just sit around this mansion all day and night doing nothing?

  Why am I here?

  My friend will be looking for me. Does my brother know I’m here? If so, will he come and get me? Doubt it. Preston can be a little coward. He never did like getting his hands dirty unless it involved women who could make him money and he could fuck. I’m neither.

  A bottle of scotch over in the corner on the minibar catches my attention, and I get up to grab it. A drink sounds good.

  I open the door to step out of the office but jump back when I run into a man dressed in a black and white three-piece suit. He smiles at me kindly. “Hello, Miss Clarke.”

  My eyes widen. “Marvin. You have to help me,” I say in a rush. His smile falls.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Clarke, but I cannot …”

  My hands ball into fists. “I’m not here because I want to be,” I snap.

  “That is not my concern,” he says, unaffected by my anger. “I work for Mr. Decker, and he has instructed me to make sure you are taken care of. Now would you like
something to eat?”

  I stare up at him wide-eyed. I’ve known this man all my life. He worked for the Decker’s long before I can remember. His brown hair has now turned gray and his skin has wrinkled, but he still has those kind brown eyes. I open my mouth to tell him I’d rather starve, but a man pushes his way through the office door.

  “She’ll have dinner up in her room.”

  I glare at the man. He’s the same one that I stabbed with a fork only hours ago. God, that seems like so long ago. My stay here is going to be like prison time—long.

  “I said I’m not hungry.” I glare at him.

  “You’ll either eat it on your own, or I will force-feed you,” he declares and then spins around and walks out of the room.

  Marvin nods his head once. “Very well. I will have your dinner served to you up in your room.” Then he, too, turns and walks away, leaving me alone with the bottle of scotch.

  I let out a huff and storm up to my room. Slamming the door shut, I plop down on the bed and tip the bottle back. If I have to be here, I’ll drink my dinner.

  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.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AVERY

  Seventeen years old . . .

  “I’LL WAIT FOR YOU UP here,” she says, crawling into my bed.

  She should go home. The scene downstairs wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. “I may be a while,” I tell her, and my chest tightens when her face pales a little. I kneel by the bed. “We can watch a movie when I get back.”

  She nods but stays quiet. I get up, kiss her on the head, and then walk out of my room. Heading back downstairs, I see my brother Vaughn in the hallway, putting his camera back together. He looks up at me and gives me a shit-eating grin, then picks up his equipment. We make our way to my father’s office and enter to find it empty. I go over to the back wall and open the door, entering a narrow passageway. Taking the steps to the bottom, I pause, allowing Vaughn to pass by me. I stare at the tunnel. My brother Vaughn calls it the tunnel to heaven. Tristan and I refer to it as the tunnel to hell.

  “Come on, pussy.” I hear him call out with a chuckle.

  Straightening my back, I walk through it. Coming to the end, I enter the cellar. It’s lit up like an arena on Friday night. To the left are cages. Each one a prison cell for a girl or boy who caught my father’s eye. To the right are shelves holding instruments of torture.

  “About time,” my father announces, getting my attention.

  He stands over to the right with Presleigh’s dad on one side of him and my brother on the other. They all stare at me. There’s a girl at his feet on her knees. Her head is tilted back while she stares up at him as though he’s a fucking God. It’s pathetic. How easily they break for him. He brings them in kicking and screaming, and then a month later, they’re nothing but life-size dolls being tossed around however he wants to display them. He takes their souls and devours them. They’re nothing but an empty shell when he’s done with them. What a waste.

  “Where is Tristan?” my father demands.

  “I saw him earlier with Maria,” my brother answers.

  My dad shakes his head. “I’ve told him to leave the maid’s daughter alone. One more year and she’ll bring in a lot of money.”

  My father thinks Tristan is in love with Maria. He’s not. He fucked her last year so she could lose her V-card. He was fourteen, and she was thirteen. Virgins are always worth more. Our older brother, Vaughn, had thrown a party, and when I asked why she was drunk, Tristan told me that he told her to drink up. He was gonna take every hole she had. Later on the next day, I just happened to see him walking out of her room while slipping on his shirt. When I asked him if he regretted it, he said not one bit and that I should fuck Bunny before they sold her for her innocence. I just shook my head and said that her father wouldn’t do that. She was off-limits from them and their world. To everyone but me.

  “These boys need to stop playing with things that don’t belong to them,” Presleigh’s father adds, and I don’t miss the fact that he’s staring right at me when he says it.

  “Come on.” Vaughn gets their attention when he lifts his camera, pointing it down at the girl on her knees.

  I enter her room to find her lying in the same position that she was in on the surveillance. But she won’t be for long.

  Going to the end of the bed, I reach out and grab the duvet and yank it off her. It falls to
the floor at my feet, and she moans, pulling her legs up to her chest while lying on her side. I undo my tie and rip it out from underneath the collar of my button-down and toss it to the floor to join the duvet. Then I undo my cufflinks and roll up my sleeves.

  You’re gonna pay for disobeying, Bunny.

  I crawl onto the bed and place my hands on her hips, moving her onto her back. Her head stays tilted to the side with her arms up by her head. She’s out. Being drugged and an alcoholic will do that to you.

  Placing my hands in the waistband of her black thong, I pull it down her legs and toss them behind me onto the floor as well. Then I place my right hand by her head and lean over her. My left hand skirts up her inner thigh to cup her pussy. She moans softly.

  “Avery …”

  I smile. “Dreaming of me, Bunny?”

  She shivers. “Avery.” This time, she lifts her hips when she mumbles it.

  I run my fingers along her pussy before pushing one inside her slowly.

  Her eyes spring open. “Avery!” She squeals and places her hands on my chest. I bury my head in her neck while adding another finger roughly. She’s not wet yet, but she will be. She gasps, and I smile to myself. That’s it, Bunny. Enjoy what I’m doing to you for now ’cause you’re gonna be cussing me in a minute.

  “You were whispering my name in your sleep,” I inform her, wanting to embarrass her.

  But it does the opposite. She sighs and tilts her head back, exposing more of her neck to me. She’s so drunk and horny. I love it. “Want me to fuck you, Bunny?”

  “Yes.” She whimpers.

  “Want me to flip you over and fuck that tight cunt like I did earlier up against the table?”

  “God, yes.” She lifts her hips and grips my shirt with her fists.

  My fingers get more forceful, and her breath catches, making her wet. Then all of a sudden, I remove my fingers from her pussy, and she sags against the bed. I grab both of her wrists and pin them above her head, and she moans.