“Who knows?” I shrug with a sigh, remembering what happened just hours ago.
Lance enters the bathroom. “What happened?” he asks as I sit on my knees beside her.
“She slit her wrist. Found her in the tub.” My clothes have soaked up her blood, and my hands and arms are covered it in. I’ve dealt with blood before. I’ve killed before. My hands are stained with it. No matter how many times I wash them, it’ll never come off. But to have them covered in hers is different. The only woman I’ve ever loved.
“Presleigh?” he asks, his brown eyes wide when he gets a good look at her. He just stands there doing nothing but staring.
“Yes. Now fucking do something,” I demand.
He kneels beside her as well and lifts her hands. I had removed my belt and wrapped it around her forearm to close off the wound. “I think she was in shock.”
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he observes.
“Of course, it fucking is!” Has he gone blind?
He shakes his head. “She has lost blood but not enough to warrant this kind of unconsciousness.” He stares down at her. “She needs to be admitted …”
“No!” I shake my head. “Treat her here.”
After a long pause, he finally nods.
I finish my drink and then pour another one. My brother starts laughing.
“Care to share what is so funny?” I ask, unable to see the humor in the situation.
“I can see where she knew there was no way out. You have cameras in the house. Countless men ready to restrain her at any given moment until you arrive. And an alarm. Plus, you had a tracker placed in her. So even if she is able to outsmart your men and get a head start, she wouldn’t get far.”
“Yeah, I knew she’d run but …” My voice trails off as his words set in.
“What?”
I set my full drink down and stand from my desk, ignoring his question. I pick up the remote and turn on my TV that hangs on the wall above the mantle and then the surveillance. I rewind it to earlier in the day. My brother turns to face it, and we see her standing in her bathroom with a bottle of scotch in one hand, my letter opener in the other, and she’s completely naked. We watch silently while the scene plays out in front of us in complete shock of her actions. When I press pause, he turns around, takes a drink, and looks up at me, chuckling. “Well, that changes things.”
I storm out of my office, ignoring his statement.
Darrell stands over in the corner of her room. He was to inform me when she woke since I’ve put her on suicide watch.
“Leave us.”
He walks out without a word, closing the door behind him.
She lies in her bed just as I left her with the covers pulled up to her chest and still naked underneath them. Clothes aren’t important when you’re dying. Her arms are the only thing not covered. They rest on top of the red comforter down by her side. A white bandage is wrapped around her left wrist. Her other arm has an IV in it. Lance turned her bedroom into a hospital room, giving her everything she needed. Thankfully, she didn’t have to have a blood transfusion. It could have been much worse.
I saved her. If I hadn’t come home, she could have died in that tub.
She’ll owe me big for that. Especially since I know it wasn’t suicide due to desperation. Now I understand she cut herself open due to determination. She wanted that tracker out so she could run. She cut herself horizontally, not vertically. But I couldn’t think straight. At the time, I just had to save her. She’s worth nothing to me dead.
My jaw clenches at the thought of her outsmarting me. She almost did. I could tie her to the bed or take her to the cellar and chain her to a wall. Where I’d starve her, beat her, fuck her.
There are several cruel yet appealing ideas I could do to her against her will that would guarantee she’d never get away, but I don’t want those. I don’t want her to fight me. Plus, that would make me no better than the men who want her.
She doesn’t need to know the details. She just needs to trust me as she did at one time. But she’s obviously smarter than I thought. That’s how we got to this point.
I want cooperation.
I want submission.
I want total dominance over her.
So I’m gonna have to come at this from a different angle. Just as she played me for a fool, I’m gonna play her.
I walk over and stare down at her sleeping face. She really is as beautiful as she used to be. Her nose is smaller, but her face still reminds me of a Barbie doll and porcelain skin.
Now that I know she’s not suicidal, she’s even more intriguing. Even more resilient.
My Bunny!
Her dark hair is fanned across the pillow. Her color has returned to her tanned skin. I smile at how much she must hate me in order to willingly cut herself open to rip out her tracker. Just to run from me. I know it had to hurt. I saw the tears as they ran down her gorgeous face. And it makes me hard knowing that she was that strong to keep going.
That determined.
I’m about to show her that I can match her determination.
Leaning down, I place a soft kiss on her forehead, my lips lingering for a second too long before I pull back and whisper, “It didn’t work, Bunny. You’re still mine. Now more than ever.”
PRESLEIGH
I moan in pain as my heavy eyes try to open. The room is dark, but the lamp glows from the nightstand, giving the room some light.
I sit up but feel a rush of dizziness take over. I place my head in my hands and hiss in a breath when my right arm pinches. Pulling it away, I see an IV in it and blood.
“What the …?” I trail off when I see a bandage around my other wrist. And I swallow the knot that instantly forms in my throat.
I failed.
My plan didn’t work.
I sit in the cold clawfoot tub stripped naked. The faucet isn’t running, and the tub is empty. I have no plans to bathe. But this is the only spot I could think to pull off what I need to do. Once I’m done, I’ll turn on the water and wash all the evidence down the drain.
Easy cleanup.
I may not have been able to access the computer, but I was able to find something useful.
I spin the letter opener that I stole from his office between my fingers. It’s sterling silver with a long blade that comes to a sharp point. The top has a black cross, and I wrap my fingers around it, feeling the heavy weight of it in my hand. My salvation!
This isn’t ideal, but it’s the only option I have at the moment. If I run, he’ll find me, and this tracker gives him an advantage. And who knows what he’ll do to me when he catches me. I could be down for weeks before I’d be strong enough to try again.
I can’t have that.
If I’m gonna have any chance, I need the upper hand. Grabbing the washcloth that lays over the side of the tub, I stuff it in my mouth to quiet my screams so his butler and whoever the hell else is in this house doesn’t hear. ’Cause I know this is gonna hurt like a bitch. But once it’s out, I’ll run.
Tears instantly sting my eyes, and my chest tightens.
“I have to applaud your effort.”
My head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Avery sits over in the far corner by the large window in a high-back chair. Dressed casually in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt, he holds a glass of dark liquid in his large hand as it rests on his thigh.
“You can’t keep me here forever,” I snap, my hands fisting the red comforter, and the tightness making my left wrist hurt.
“I can, and I will.”
“I don’t belong to you!” I shout, angry tears sliding down my face. “You can’t do this to me!” My chest starts to heave, and my lungs burn. I can’t breathe. All of a sudden, the room is too small. He is too big.
He tilts his head to the side, watching me with fascination. As though he’s never seen me before.
He hasn’t. Not this Presleigh. I used to be carefree. And in love with him. That was before … before he left me with nothi
ng.
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. “Let me go, Avery.”
“No.”
“You fucking hate me!” I shout, my lungs burning. “Why keep me here?”
“I have my reasons,” he responds simply.
I grind my teeth in frustration. And my eyes fall to the IV in my arm. Without thought, I yank it out and rip the covers back before I jump out of bed. The room sways, and my vision blurs, and I feel lightheaded. I blink a few times and place my left hand out to grab the nightstand, but it just slides across, and I fall to my knees. Dots form, and my head spins.
“You had some blood loss.” I hear Avery’s voice off in the distance. “Cutting yourself open and almost bleeding to death will do that to you. Plus the fact that you fell and hit your head on the corner of the tub. Knocking yourself out in the process.”
“Fuck you,” My head pounds, and blood rushes in my ears.
“I think you’ve fucked yourself, Bunny,” he says, and I can hear the amusement in his words.
I hang my head in defeat while I kneel on the bedroom floor. My hands fist the red rug, and I rock back and forth, trying to think of a way out. An escape. I won’t allow him to keep me here like this as if I’m nothing to him. As if I was always nothing to him.
Is this how he always saw me? Had I been so blinded by my love for him that I didn’t realize he never saw me as a person? Fresh tears fall down my face at that thought.
“You’re thinking too much.” He interrupts my thoughts. “You’re here because I want you here, Bunny. And that’s all that matters.”
I swallow a sob that threatens to come out. “I don’t belong to you.” My voice is rough, and I clear my throat. “I never did.” Just saying those words has my heart beating faster.
I hear the ice in his glass clink, letting me know he’s taking a drink. “That’s right,” he says in a clipped tone. “You never were mine, Presleigh.” Hatred rolls off his words at the sound of my name. “But you pretended so well back then. I have faith you can do it again.”
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He knows fucking nothing!
“Or you can continue to fight me along the way.” He chuckles. “I find that I like you better like this than the fake bitch who pretended to love me back then.”
I can’t take it anymore—the way he speaks as if everything we had, the future we were building meant nothing to me—so I change the subject. “How long?” I finally ask. He stays silent. “How long am I here for, Avery?” I snap.
I hear the leather creak as he stands from the chair. Then I see his tennis shoes in front of me. I look up, and he is smiling down at me. He likes it like this. Me on my knees. Him standing tall and all powerful.
“Until I decide I’m done with you.”
I bare my teeth at him. “I’ll fight you. I’ll make you wish you’d just kill me.” A tear runs down my cheek in frustration.
“No, Bunny. You’re gonna wish I killed you.”
I don’t flinch at his words, but the tone causes my chest to tighten. I stay on my knees and bow my head again, unable to look at him anymore.
He bends down, picking me up by my upper arm. His fingers dig into the bruises already left from his belt, but I refuse to let him know he’s hurting me. Instead of placing me on the bed like I think he’s going to, he pulls me toward the bathroom. And then he turns on the water in the bathtub. Blood is smeared over the porcelain. My blood.
“Get in,” he orders, and I do as he commands. He might as well have a chain around my neck because there’s no fighting him. He’s proven that.
I sit down, and he leaves the bathroom, coming back with a towel and washcloth. He bends down beside me while the warm water fills the cold tub. “What did you do with the washcloth that was in the tub with you?” he asks.
I look away from him. He grabs my chin and yanks my face back to his. Dark blue eyes glare into mine. “I asked you a question.”
I still refuse to answer.
“Do you like being gagged, Bunny? Is that why you stuck in it your mouth?”
Motherfucker!
He must have watched the tape. In my decision to cut myself open and rip out my tracker, I had forgotten cameras were in here.
He gets my attention as he wads up the washcloth in his hand. “Open your mouth.”
My eyes widen, and I pull my face as far away from him as I can. Tears sting my eyes at having to tell him what I attempted to do. “Bunny …”
“I placed it in my mouth so Marvin wouldn’t hear me scream,” I cave, knowing that the bastard already knows this. He’s just making me say it. He wants me to remind myself that I failed.
His eyes narrow on mine, and his jaw sharpens. He looks at me as if he wants to hit me, and for a moment, I hope he does. I want him to make me hurt. Make me feel alive. Because I feel deader now than I ever have. Once again, I failed myself. I got myself in a situation I couldn’t get out of.
Instead, he places the washcloth in the warm water that continues to fill the tub and then grabs the soap bottle, pouring the pink liquid onto the washcloth. After he lathers it up, he places it on my skin and starts to wash me. I stay silent as I remember the last time he bathed me. Before things went very south. Eleven years ago.
He sits behind me in his tub, his arms around my shoulders while my back rests on his chest. I feel his lips by my ear, and he whispers. “I love you, Bunny.”
I smile, closing my eyes. “I love you too, Avery.”
His arms loosen around my shoulders, and his hand moves to my flat stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” I ask with a smile. “You don’t want a boy?”
“I want a girl. The world needs another beautiful face like yours,” he says, and I feel tears threaten my eyes at his words. I’m terrified. I have no idea how to care for a baby. But he makes me believe that we can do it. Just me and him. Our own little family.
“Well, I can’t wait to find out.” We’ve only known I’m expecting for a few weeks now, and he hasn’t let me out of his sight since. I’ve been moody and sick lately. He suggested the possibility, but I said there was no way. We have always been careful, but I guess not enough. I frown. “I wish you didn’t have to leave next week.” He and Preston are going away to look at colleges. Avery assured me I’d be going wherever he decides to go, but with the baby coming, we need to have a plan. I couldn’t argue with that.
“I’ll only be gone for a week,” he promises me before kissing my cheek.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AVERY
THE WATER IS BLOOD RED and has started to turn cold, but I had to do this. I’ve been sitting in her room, waiting for her to wake up, and when she did, I couldn’t look at the blood covering her anymore. I had showered earlier after I watched the tape with my brother where she tore herself open, so now it was her turn.
“Stand up,” I order, and she slowly makes her way to her feet.
I grab the towel off the floor and stand, starting to dry off her neck and shoulders. She silently cries, and I’m not sure if it’s due to humiliation or pain. I come to her tits, and they make my cock grow behind my zipper. Her pink nipples harden from the coldness, and I run the towel over them, drying them off. Water runs down her flat stomach and her smooth pussy. She still has bruises on both of her hips from the way I took her over the dining room table, and she hisses in a breath when I push on them too hard as I dry them off. Dark bruises cover both wrists and ankles as well.
I don’t apologize.
“Step out,” I order her, and she does as I say on shaky legs. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
I stop drying her legs and stand to my full height, glaring down at her. “Tell me the truth. Do you need something for the pain?”
“I’m. Fine.” She says each word slowly as if I may not understand her, and I nod.
Okay.
I take her by the hand and pull her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. The red
comforter has been replaced by a white one. The white sheets have been replaced with black ones. I had sent Marvin a text letting him know she was awake while she collapsed on the bedroom floor and to come change out the bedding and bring her a water and some food.
I pull back the duvet. “Get in,” I command, and she does slowly.
“I don’t wanna sleep naked,” she says softly.
“Too bad.”
She lets out a long breath, too tired to argue. “Here,” I say, grabbing the tray that sits on her nightstand. “You need to eat something.”
She looks over at the pancakes, eggs, and bacon. After a long second, she chooses a single piece of toast. “I want you to eat everything,” I tell her and then turn around and leave.
I enter my study to find my brother still sitting there. “Don’t you ever go home?” I ask, sitting down at my desk.
He pours me a new glass of scotch. “How is she?” He was just as impressed as I was from the video of her lying in the bathtub naked, cutting herself open.
I grab the glass and take a drink. “She’s pissed.”
He sits back in his seat. “Well, that is expected. She tried to escape and failed. But I’m sure she’ll try again.”
I snort and take another sip, needing more. My cock is so hard for her it hurts.
“She’s smarter than I remember,” he says with a smirk.
I nod. “Seems so.”
“So what are you going to do now?” he asks, taking a drink from his own glass.
I shake my head. “No clue.”
He arches a brow.
“What?” I snap.
“Well, that’s not like you not to have a plan.”
I know. It’s not like me at all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AVERY
THE FOLLOWING DAY, I SIT at the head of the table drinking a cup of coffee when I feel her enter the room. I had sent Marvin to fetch her this morning. I decided last night after talking to my brother in the study that it’s time to pull back. She needs to think she has some freedom. Security. It’s part of fucking with her mind.
SLAUGHTER Page 12