SLAUGHTER

by Tessier, Shantel

I’m guessing he is referring to the cellar, but I don’t want him to leave me. He’s been so distant since he found out about what his father did. And we haven’t discussed anything regarding this Damon guy or my brother. He’s here but not really. He stays in this angry place all the time. “Don’t,” I say, stepping up to him and placing my hands on his chest. The blood doesn’t bother me. He’s making them pay for what they did to me. To us.

  But he’s leaving me all alone. I need him to hold me. I need more …

  I can feel his heart racing, and his breathing ragged. “Stay with me.”

  “Bunny.” He growls.

  “I need you, Avery. Please,” I beg, knowing that will get me what I want.

  Being naked and chained to a wall will change you. It made me realize that I have been chained for eleven years. Ever since I was forced to leave him. Ever since I was beat enough to lose our child.

  He lets out a long breath and lifts his hand to cup my face. “I’ll make them pay.”

  “I believe you. But can you do it later?”

  He sighs heavily, lowering his forehead to mine. “What do you want, Bunny? Tell me what I can do to make it better.” His voice is full of pain.

  I hide my smile by biting my lip, knowing I can get what I want. “I want you to fuck me.”

  He pulls back as though I slapped him. He stares down at me with a mixture of concern and total shock. “What?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me right.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I repeat, but my voice lacks the confidence I had the first time I said it.

  He takes a step back from me, raising his hands as if to keep me away. “No,” he says.

  My chest tightens, and I take a step toward him. “Avery …”

  “I said no, Bunny,” he snaps. “Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” Everything.

  He snorts, not believing me, and I wrap my arms around my chest. “Get out,” he demands, pointing at the door. I just stand there, staring at the floor. I’m exactly what I didn’t want to be. Damaged. He sees me as a victim rather than a survivor. “I said get the fuck out!” he roars.

  I drop my head to my chest as my eyes fill with tears, then turn around and walk out of his bathroom and bedroom, heading upstairs back to my room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  AVERY

  I SIT ON MY COUCH IN MY study, holding a bottle of scotch in my hand. I skipped the glass, knowing that I would need more. The fire crackles in the fireplace, and I watch the flames, thinking how I would like to see Lance’s body burn. Maybe that’s how I’ll end his life. Set him on fire in the front yard.

  “Didn’t think I’d find you in here,” my brother announces, entering the room.

  “I needed a drink.”

  He sits down in the high-back chair. “How is Presleigh doing?”

  I take a big gulp from the bottle at the mention of her name.

  “She’s just gonna need time, Avery. I know you have no patience, but …”

  “She wants me to fuck her,” I state.

  “What?” He gapes at me.

  I take another drink. “That’s what I said.” I thought I had heard her wrong, but then she repeated herself. I want you to fuck me. My stomach twists at that thought.

  He sighs heavily. “She needs to see a professional. Someone she can talk to about what happened to her. Besides you.”

  “Do you have one on speed dial who makes house calls? Because I don’t.” I take another drink.

  “Yes.”

  I look at him, waiting for a punch line. Instead, he pulls his cell out of his pocket and dials a number. He leans back in his chair and lifts his right foot, placing his ankle on his left knee. “Hey,” he says gently when the person answers. “How are you doing?” he asks in a soft voice. “Yeah, I’m still in Vancouver.” He nods to himself as a soft smile spreads across his face. “I was wondering if you could make a house call?” he asks and runs his finger over his lips. “Yeah. It’s …” He looks up at me. “Complicated.” Then looks away. “I need to stay here, but I can send the jet for you.” His smile grows. “Thanks. See you soon.”

  He hangs up and drops the phone to his lap. His eyes meet mine, and the stupid grin on his face drops off. “What?”

  “Either I’m drunk, or that was a woman who you have a thing for,” I say.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He sighs. “I called her because she is the best at what she does. She deals with cases that involve women like herself and Presleigh.”

  “She’s a victim?” I ask slowly.

  His eyes narrow, and he throws back a drink. “Yes.”

  _______________

  I didn’t sleep at all that night. I actually never left my study. I sat there until the flame went out and the bottle of scotch was gone. I actually got a buzz. And that hasn’t happened in years. I started drinking when I was fourteen. My father found me and my friends sneaking his fifteen-year-old scotch and made us drink the entire bottle. We were sick for days, pretty sure we had alcohol poisoning, but it got me hooked. And the more I drank, the more my tolerance grew for it. I’ve never been one to drink to get drunk.

  I sit up on the couch and rub my sleepy eyes, wondering what Bunny is doing. Did she sleep well? Did she have nightmares? Is she in pain? I don’t think she would tell me even if she was. Last night was the first night since I found her that we didn’t sleep in the same bed together. And I hate it. We haven’t spoken about what happened while she was taken. I don’t wanna hear her tell me what she went through, and I know that makes me a fucking asshole.

  The door opens, and I watch Marvin walk into my study. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Morning, Marvin.” There’s nothing good about it.

  “I just wanted to let you know that Presleigh had a cup of coffee in her room but didn’t eat much of her breakfast. And that I fed Lance his piece of bread and water as well.”

  I hate that I have to feed the fucker, but if I want him to survive longer so I can continue my torture, I gotta give him something.

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  “Would you like your breakfast now, sir?”

  “No. I’m not hungry,” I tell him, and he nods before walking out and closing the door behind him.

  “Knock, knock.” I hear my brother’s voice on the other side of the closed door.

  “Come in,” I mumble, placing my elbows on my knees, and take a deep breath, letting my head fall to my hands. I hear the door open, and I dig my palms into my eyes. “I need to call Kayn. See if he has made any progress,” I say more to myself than Tristan. “That fucker needs to die …” I look up and stop talking when I see he is standing in my study with a beautiful blonde next to him. He has her tucked into his side with his hand on the small of her back.

  “Avery. This is Chloe. Chloe, this is my brother, Avery.” He introduces us.

  I stand from the couch. “My apologies. Nice to meet you.”

  She nods as she places her small hand in mine to shake. Her dark green eyes widen when she looks at my shirt. The same shirt that I wore last night when I tortured Lance. I hope that fucker hasn’t bled to death yet.

  She removes her hand from mine and swallows nervously. “Is he the one I’m here to see?” she whispers to my brother.

  “No. Although he needs help, but that will have to wait until another day,” he says, making her give a nervous laugh.

  “Bunny is up in her room.”

  “Bunny?” she asks.

  I open my mouth, but my brother speaks. “That’s a little nickname he calls Presleigh.”

  She nods once.

  “I’ll show you to her room,” I say, walking around them and out the open door.

  They follow me up the winding staircase and down the hallway. I come to her door and go to barge in like I always have but then decide to knock first this time. She doesn’t tell me to enter, but I open it anyway. I find her sitting up on the bed, the covers pulle
d up to her neck, just staring down at her nails.

  “Bunny.”

  “What, Avery?” she asks flatly, not even bothering to look up at me.

  “I have a visitor for you,” I say.

  “Tell them to go away.”

  “Excuse me,” Chloe says to me and shoves me out of the way as she enters the room. “Hello, Presleigh,” she says softly.

  Bunny’s head snaps up, and she looks at Chloe. Her eyes run over her black skinny jeans and pink blouse. Then they drop to her black heels, and she looks longingly at them as if she wishes she could dress up and go somewhere. She used to go out and party every fucking night. I’m sure she misses that kind of freedom. Even if I wanted to give it to her now, I can’t. Not while my father is out looking for her on top of Damon.

  Chloe turns to face me and Tristan. “Give us some time.”

  I nod and then shut the door. When I turn to walk away, I find my brother still standing, watching the door.

  “You sleep with her?” I ask. It’s obvious.

  “No.” He turns and faces me. “I fuck her.”

  “She looks familiar. Have I met her before?” He shakes his head. Then I realize where I recognize her from. “She’s the blonde you brought to Conway’s party.”

  Instead of confirming it, he turns around and walks off.

  PRESLEIGH

  “May I?” the gorgeous blonde asks, gesturing to the end of the bed.

  “Sure,” I answer, wondering how she knows my name. And why she is here to see me. I haven’t been able to use the phone or internet, but now I’m allowed to have visitors?

  She sits down and crosses her right leg over her left, and I feel nothing but jealousy. Her blond hair that I know comes from a bottle is pulled up into a perfect, yet messy bun. She has black rimmed glasses that sit on her little nose, and she has a big smile on her face. Her makeup is done light. All she has on is powder because I can still see the light freckles around her nose and a little bit of blush and mascara. That’s it. And she still looks runway ready.

  “They didn’t tell you I was coming?” she asks with a frown.

  “They don’t tell me much.” Practically nothing.

  She gives me a warm smile. “I’m Chloe.”

  This is where I tell her my name and say nice to meet you. But she already knows my name, and I’m not sure how this meeting could be nice. “Do you sleep with Avery?” I ask. Maybe he sent me one of his whores to talk to me. Maybe it’s just another trick where he sets me up for a fall. I don’t put anything past him at this point.

  For the first time, her smile drops, and her eyes widen in surprise. “No,” she answers, shaking her head quickly as if that was the stupidest question I could have asked her. “I just met him.”

  Ah, I get it. “You sleep with Tristan.” From what I remember, he always preferred blondes.

  She claps her hands together and places them in her lap. “I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about you.” My brows raise. “How are you feeling?”

  My jaw tightens. “You’re a shrink?”

  “Presleigh …”

  “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time.” I stretch my legs out and throw the covers off before getting out of bed. I start to walk toward the bathroom to shut her out and lock the door, but her gasp stops me. I turn to face her, and her green eyes are large, staring at my neck and chest exposed by Avery’s overly large shirt. She couldn’t see them when I had the covers up to my neck. Then her gaze drops to the bandage around my leg, and she swallows.

  I raise my arms out wide, and her eyes meet mine again. “Now you know all you need to know.” Then I turn back to walk toward the bathroom.

  “Did Avery and Tristan do that you?” she asks in horror.

  I don’t answer.

  She bows her head and sighs. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Sorry for what they did to you.”

  Her words make me stop, and my teeth grind. I spin back around. “You have no idea what they did to me,” I shout as tears sting my eyes. I’m so tired of people looking at me like that. Like I’m fucking broken, even if I do feel it.

  “I know they hurt you,” she says softly, lowering her eyes to the floor. “I know they treat you like you’re nothing.” She swallows.

  The sad part is that even though Avery and Tristan weren’t the ones who did this to me, they have still treated me like nothing. Well, Avery has anyway. Tristan just helped him set me up.

  I go to walk away again, but she stops me. “Please?” she begs, and I turn back around. “Take this.” She stands from the bed and offers me a card. “Call me whenever you need to just talk to.”

  My eyes meet hers. “That won’t do me any good.” She frowns at my words. “I’m not allowed to use the phone.” Then I turn and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and hoping she won’t follow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  AVERY

  WHEN TRISTAN AND I WALK back into my study, I grab the scotch and pour us each a glass. “So what’s up with you and Chloe?” I ask.

  “Don’t,” he says in warning.

  “Just curious.”

  “Well, don’t be,” he snaps.

  She means something to him. I saw it in the way he spoke to her on the phone. The way he smiled when he heard her voice. But he had said she went through something similar to what Bunny went through, and it makes my chest tighten. Is that why they aren’t more? ’Cause she can’t have more? Is that how Bunny will be now? Will she ever be able to forgive me? I know I’ll never be able to forgive myself for not getting to her sooner. For not seeing that Darrell was a fucking lying bastard who betrayed me and my men.

  “Hello?”

  We both look up to see Chloe entering the study. Her eyes go straight to mine, and I straighten my shoulders at the look of judgment in them. “How did it go?” I ask her.

  “I’m not allowed to discuss—”

  “I think this is a little different than your other cases,” my brother interrupts her.

  “It is,” she agrees.

  “Then why don’t you help him out?”

  She narrows her eyes on him, and he takes a drink of his scotch, eyeing her back. I’ve seen my brother in action with women. I’ve walked in on him fucking one of his whores before. And believe me when I say they fall at his feet. They lick his fucking shoes. But this one—I have a feeling she does no such thing.

  She turns her murderous glare on me. “Do I need to call the authorities?”

  “What?” Tristan barks out.

  “No!” I answer.

  She places her hands on her narrow hips. “Is she being held here against her will?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Did she tell you that?” Tristan demands.

  She turns to face him. “She didn’t have to. The way he just totally ignored my question answered it.”

  He lets out a long breath, running his hand through his hair. “Things with Presleigh … are complicated.”

  “No, it’s not,” she argues. “She is either here on her own free will or she is not.”

  “She’s not,” I state.

  “That’s what I thought.” She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her cell. “I’m calling the police …”

  Tristan yanks the phone out of her hand and growls. “I didn’t have you come here to save her.”

  “Then why did you have me come here?” she snaps.

  He takes a step back from her, shaking his head as if he refuses to answer that question.

  “Look, I don’t know what you two are up to or what you’ve done to her, but that poor woman has been physically and mentally abused. She refuses to talk to me, and I think that is because she is terrified of you two.”

  “We saved her,” Tristan informs her. But I don’t feel that way. If I hadn’t brought her here, then she would have never been taken from me. I’m at total fault.

  She gives a rough laugh. “Who did you save her from, Tristan? Because I know when I
was saved, I was grateful.”

  They begin to argue, and I remove myself from the situation. I couldn’t care less at this point what they have to say.

  PRESLEIGH

  I step out of the shower and grab the towel to dry off with.

  “We need to talk.”

  Looking up, I see Avery standing in the bathroom, leaning against the countertop with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. It reminds me of a few weeks ago when I first saw him in here. So much has changed since then.

  “I don’t want to talk,” I say flatly.

  He sighs. “You should have spoken to Chloe.”

  I narrow my eyes on him. “A heads-up would have been nice.”

  “You need help—”

  “Excuse me?” I snap, interrupting him.

  “No one can go through what you did and be okay. I saw the look in your eyes. You were beaten down. And now that I know he hurt you eleven years ago …” His words cut off, and he looks away from me. As though it’s too painful to face me.

  My anger rises. “I don’t need help!” I’m in denial. We both know it, but I refuse to admit it.

  He removes his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms over his chest. A sign that he’s getting irritated as well. “What is so wrong with admitting that you need to talk to someone?”

  “I don’t need someone asking me if I dressed too slutty. Or if I had led them on only to change my mind at the last minute,” I snap.

  “Chloe said that to you?” he demands.

  I shake my head. “Forget it, Avery.”

  “I won’t forget it.” He sighs. “I can’t forget it.” He runs a hand through his hair. His eyes plead with mine. “Please help me understand what I can do for you, Bunny.”

  Tears start to sting my eyes. “You can’t do anything for me,” I say, and my voice breaks.

  “There has to be something,” he urges.

  I bite my bottom lip and then let the towel drop to the floor. “You can fuck me.”

  His eyes stray from my neck down to my ribs. They still show. I haven’t eaten much. The pain pills have taken away my appetite. His eyes go to the bandage around my upper thigh. “I can’t …” he says through clenched teeth.