Page 103 of Slaughter

A part of me is proud of her. To know she is this brave. The other thinks she is fucking crazy and needs psychological help. A padded room. Possible straitjacket. She just admitted she would cause bodily harm to herself. There’s no telling what my brother told her. Or what he made her feel. I’ve seen girls not able to live in their own skin after Vaughn touched them. It was always terrible to watch.

After I witnessed my father brand that young girl, I never saw him do it again. I tried to free her two weeks later and found her dead. She had hung herself from her own chains. She would rather die than be someone’s slave, and that’s exactly how I see Bunny. She would destroy herself before she would let someone else do it.

And I refuse to lose her. Not again. Not this way.

“I’ll do it.”

“Jesus.” Tristan hisses under his breath and turns to me. “You can’t possibly…”

“I’ll do it, Bunny,” I tell her again.

She nods once, letting out a long breath, trying to calm her anger. “I’ll go get ready.” Then she walks out.

“What the fuck, man?” My brother turns on me.

“Why do you fucking care?” I ask, pouring another glass. “You wanted me to kill her, remember?”

“Yes,” he snaps. “I wanted you to snap her neck and throw her body into the ocean. I never wanted you to torture the poor thing.”

“She’s already been tortured,” I shout. “By our sick brother.”

I hang my head and run a hand through my hair. “You watched the tape with me when she ripped open her wrist with a letter opener to remove her tracker. But you didn’t see the way she looked at the brand when she was in the bathtub a minute ago. The way she clawed at it as if it was eating her alive from the inside. There’s no telling what she will do to get that off her.” I can’t find her bleeding to death one more time. My mind and heart won’t be able to take it.

PRESLEIGH

I want to cry. I want to run away and hide, but I know that’s not an option. Victor told me. I’ve been watching you all this time. And I’ll continue to watch. You will never be free of me.

There’s nowhere for me to run. All I can do is hope that the fucker dies before he can get me again. I can’t tell Avery. Some things a woman has to take to her grave. This is one of them.

I remember how much he took from me last time, and I refuse to give that bastard this much of my life again.

“Wake up, Pres.”

I hear a male’s voice, but it seems far away. Distant. “Come on, Pres.” I feel a hand slap my face. Then the sting comes again.

I open my heavy eyes and moan out in pain. My thigh throbs and so does my head. But at least it’s dark.

Vaughn stands there above me a smile on his face. “I hope Avery kills you,” I mumble sitting up.

He frowns. “Why would he do that? You never were anything of importance to him.”

“Fuck you …” He slaps me so hard it knocks me back down face first onto the cold concrete floor. The chain connected to my collar rattles from the movement.

“If you can’t be nice, then you don’t get fed,” he says simply and then turns to walk out of the room, closing the heavy door behind him and locking it.

I pound my fist into the cold concrete floor as tears of anger spill from my eyes. I scream out in frustration. In pain. My entire body hurts, and I’m fucking tired. So tired. It’s the drugs they give me. They put something in my water. So it’s either eat and drink and pass out, allowing them to do whatever they want to me. Or starve and try to fight them off while I die a slow death.

I roll on to my back, and the steel collar digs into my skin. It’s rubbed me raw and pinched my skin. I dig at it, screaming out again, trying to yank it off. Thinking I can be stronger.

I sit up and pull on it, making myself bend downward, and my eyes catch sight of my brand, which just makes me madder.

Tears run down my face along with snot and slobber as I fight with the unforgiving steel. My nails dig into my skin, and I feel the sting when it slices the skin open. Then I feel blood run down my naked chest and stomach.

I let go and cover my face with my hands, sobbing. I can’t die like this. I can’t.

My entire body shakes, and I slam my hand over the brand. I scream at the pain, and I scrape my nails over it. No! I will not be his slave! Either way, he will inflict pain on me. I either allow him to do it, or I do it to myself. I choose me any day.

The door opens again, and I see Vaughn’s back, but this time, he doesn’t have any food. Instead, a pair of handcuffs dangle from his right hand. I sit my back against the cold wall, the chain clanking from my sudden movement.

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