Page 5 of Slaughter

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.

“You love her,” Marc lets out a rough chuckle that turns into a cough.

Kayn’s brows shoot to his hairline in surprise. Again, I ignore him.

“What?” I snap.

His head is back; his one useful eye is heavy on mine while he stares up at me from his chair. He gives me a bloody smile, and it makes a chill run up my back. “I said you love her.”

Love? That word sounds minimal compared to what I once felt for her. She was life. She was … everything.

It’s freezing out here on this mountain. My hands and legs are on the verge of going numb even with all my gear on. “Come on, we’re almost there,” I say, pulling her behind me.

“I can’t feel my feet,” Bunny whines.

---