Page 62 of Slaughter

I take my time in the bathroom. Mainly because my legs are sluggish and my body weak. Being punched in the face by a man three times my size and then being drugged along with being restrained all night will do that to you. Plus, I haven’t eaten much since I arrived here.

I use the restroom, brush my teeth, and put on a T-shirt along with yoga pants. The bastard brought all my clothes, which I’m thankful for, but that also means he went through my shit. Or he had someone else do it. Either way, I’m not happy about it.

I make my way down to the dining room, and he’s sitting there. His plate already cleared. He doesn’t acknowledge me as I sit down and stare at my food. My stomach is in knots for several reasons. One, I failed once again. And two, humiliation. Three, anger.

I want to kill him, but I also want to crawl up into a ball in the corner and cry my eyes out. But what will that solve? Growing up, my mother always told me tears will never change the outcome of any situation. People don’t care how you feel; they care about what you can do for them.

My mom was always strong. I never saw her cry, even when my grandparents died. I remember sitting at their funeral, and she told me, crying won’t bring them back, dear. It’ll only make your makeup run.

“You need to eat.”

Avery’s deep voice makes me jump, but I refrain from looking up at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“It wasn’t a question, Bunny.” He sighs as if I’m annoying him.

My eyes catch the silverware next to my plate. There’s a fork. Thoughts of using it to stab him enter my mind. I’ve never imagined hurting him until now. He no longer feels shit for me, so why should I feel anything for him? I couldn’t care less if the motherfucker lives or dies.

My hands sit in my lap, and I fist them, thinking how many ways it could be used to …

“Don’t even think about it, Bunny!”

My eyes snap up to meet his hard stare. I don’t deny it.

He places his forearms on the table and leans forward. “I’ve thought of every scenario you could possibly think of. And believe me when I say I have a punishment for each one.”

Fucking bastard.

His eyes look down at the fork and then back at me. “If you do anything with that fork besides feed yourself with it, I will tie you to that chair for every meal and feed you myself. Do you understand?”

My jaw clenches, but I find myself answering, “Yes.”

He nods once and then reaches over beside him. He grabs a folder and tosses it down to me. It lands on the table by my plate with a slap.

“What is this?” I ask.

“Open it,” he demands.

I do as he says and pick up the paper that sits on top. It has a picture of me and my name on it. I recognize the dress. It’s from last Friday. I had just been shopping with Alex earlier that day and wore it out that night. “What …?” I flip it over to see another piece of paper. Above it, it reads medical records. “Where did you get this?”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. A man like him has connections.

It shows my surgeries. All of them. My jaw tightens when I see car wreck. I guess it’s easy to forge anything these days. “You had no right …”

“Not that I’m complaining, but why did you choose to alter your body?” His eyes drop to my breasts.

I slap the folder shut and sit back, crossing my arms over my chest. “When did you decide to get a slave?” I ignore his question. “How many others have there been?”

He actually smirks at me. “You’re the first, Bunny.”

“Lucky me,” I snap.

He sits back in his seat. “I’m leaving for work. I trust you will behave yourself today?”

“What do you do for a living these days besides beat women?” I can’t help but ask.

He narrows his eyes on me. I think he’s about to reach across the table and slap me but instead he snaps his fingers. Darrell enters the room, and my jaw tightens as my heart speeds up. “I have given you too much freedom,” Avery says, “Darrell will accompany you anytime you are out of your room.”

I jump to my feet. “Absolutely not!” I snap.

---