Page 95 of Deadmen's Queen

“It was you,” I whispered, the words mumbled as my whole body shook with fear. “All these years, the missing girls… it wasn’t the Deadmen’s Club, it was you.”

He smiled down at me. “Clever girl. Yes, they are quite handy to have around. Everyone blames them, and even when they arrested a couple a few years back, their rich daddies swooped in and made the attention go away. Every year they follow girls around and kidnap one for their sick games, it’s not hard for people to make the connection.”

“But... why?”

David shrugged. “I enjoy it. Their fear, their screams, their blood. It gets me so fucking hard. Over and over again. Like fucking viagra.” He reached down, rubbing his hand over the growing bulge in his trousers. “And then, they give up. They stop fighting. After a while, they just beg me to kill them. So I do. It’s the kindest thing. But you, Paige. I know you’ll be different.”

“How am I different?” I asked, keeping my eyes on him even as I felt his hand push between my legs again. Cold fingers pushed deep into me, twisting inside.

“You were special. Not like the others. You have a spirit inside you. You’ll never stop fighting.” He leaned closer to me, his eyes dark and filled with a twisted sort of longing.

“They ruined you,” he continued quietly. “Touched you, fucked you without ever knowing how beautiful you are.”

I tried to pull away from him but the handcuffs kept me firmly in place. His dark eyes were locked onto mine, holding me in place even more effectively than the chains binding my wrists. I could feel his heated gaze on my skin, making me feel dirty and violated all over again.

“But you're here now,” he murmured, running the blade of his knife slowly down my chest. “And I'll take care of you.” The promise in his words was more terrifying than any threat could have been.

I swallowed hard, as he pulled his fingers out, sliding them into his mouth.

“I know you will,” I said, my heart pounding. “You’ve always taken care of me, David. I was just too stupid to see that.”

He nodded, reaching out again.

“David, before you… could I please use the bathroom?”

He paused. “Use the bathroom?” He shook his head and my heart sank. “I don’t let my girls do that. That’s why there’s plastic. You can just do it there, I don’t mind.”

“Please, David, let me use the bathroom. You can come with me. You said I was special.”

He looked down at me, eyes flicking back and forth, before finally he nodded.

“Ok. Just because it’s you, Paige.” Then he reached into his pocket and brought out the key for the cuffs. I closed my eyes, sending a prayer of thanks out into the universe as he released me. I struggled to move, inching off the bed, each movement agonising. He slipped his arm around my waist, steering me out of the bedroom and down the hallway, past the top of the stairs to a small bathroom.

Once we were inside, he leaned against the door, leaving it open so he could watch me. I grimaced, feeling exposed, vulnerable. But I had to do this. There was no other choice.

"Just be quick about it,” he barked, his eyes never leaving my form. He held the knife in his hand, a visual threat of what would happen if I tried to run.”I nodded, feeling tears prick at the corner of my eyes again. Desperate hope surged within me as I tried to formulate a plan.

Trying to ignore his staring, I moved over to the toilet and sat down. It was utterly humiliating having to go in front of him, and he watched me closely. When I’d finished, and wiped myself clean, I stood up and flushed the toilet. A wave of dizziness took me and I leaned on my hands, pressing down onto the heavy ceramic lid of the cistern.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, moving into the bathroom.

“Dizzy,” I murmured. The wave passed and my fingers tightened around the lid as my head cleared.

“I’ll take you back to bed,” he said, his voice almost kind as he came up behind me.

I whipped around, swinging the heavy lid around and catching him on the side of his head. He stumbled sideways and I hit him again, knocking him into the bath. He crashed down, groaning, barely moving, and I saw the trickle of blood down his face.

I threw the lid down onto his body, then turned and stumbled out of the bathroom door. I made my way down the hall as fast as I could, leaning on the bannister for support as I headed down the stairs. The front door stood ahead of me, down a short wide hallway. My heart racing, I started towards it, ignoring the pain in my body, desperate to get free, but I heard him shouting my name, and his heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs after me. I was so close.

I flung myself at it, reaching for the handle, but as my fingers grazed the cold metal, a heavy weight hit me from behind and together we crashed into the door. I screamed, thrashing wildly against his hold. His free hand came up, landing a harsh slap across my already bruised face. My vision blurred momentarily from the impact.

“You stupid bitch,” David spat, his eyes filled with a rage so raw and monstrous it took my breath away. “You think you could just leave? You are mine!”

He wrapped his hand around my throat, dragging me back from the door. I clawed at his hands, trying to get back on my feet.

“It seems you need to know your place,” he growled. He hit me again, so hard I couldn’t focus for a moment, and pushed me face down onto the floor. The kitchen knife flashed in front of my face and then I felt the cold of the blade pressed against my throat. He pressed the blade tighter against my skin, and I could feel a trickle of blood making its way down my neck. I closed my eyes tightly, praying silently that I would survive this, that I could escape somehow.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered desperately, but he only laughed.

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