Page 130 of Slaughter

A knock comes at the door, but I ignore it. Seconds later, it opens, and Tristan sticks his head in. “She’s downstairs talking to Chloe.”

Good. I nod and take another swig.

He plops down beside me and takes the bottle from me before taking a big gulp himself. “Do you have a plan?”

“Kill them.” They ruined us. They ruined her. I should have known something was off when I saw her at the club in New York. That was not my Bunny. But people change, so I never thought about it. She went from an angel to the fucking devil in a matter of minutes. Or so I thought.

Nineteen years old

I walk into my father’s house with Preston behind me. “Not sure how I feel about going there,” he informs me. “I mean, it’s got potential, but I’m not sure it has enough to make me happy.”

I roll my eyes, removing my jacket. We just got back from a week of looking at colleges, but it didn’t matter. Because I’m not going to Stanford like my father wants me to. The only reason I went with Preston was to pacify him so he’ll get off my back. He may want me to run the family business, but my father believes a man is nothing without a degree. Good thing I don’t give two shits what he thinks anymore. Bunny is pregnant, and I’m gonna be a father. It’s earlier than I had planned, but it’s all I can think about. Me and her. Our child. My family. I’m gonna lie to my father and tell him I wanna stay here another year and help him out. He’s not stupid. He’ll know Bunny is the reason, but he’ll allow it because he likes to show off to me and my brothers. Plus, Vaughn hasn’t gone to college yet, and he’s two years older than I am. He just hangs around like a fucking leech. So if my father tells me I need to go, then I’ll question why Vaughn hasn’t been forced to go.

As far as a career and a future, all that matters is that I’m with Bunny. I’d rather live with her in a box than in this mansion of filth.

My younger brother, Tristan, walks down the stairs. His hair a disheveled mess and all he wears is a pair of gray sweatpants. Our housekeeper’s daughter walks behind him. He still fucks her. He says she’s a good lay, but I think he’s got a soft spot for her.

“Is Bunny upstairs?” I ask him.

His eyes meet mine when he hits the landing and frowns. “Not that I know of.”

“Where is she?” I ask. I told him to watch over her while I was gone. I wanted her to go with me, but she didn’t wanna miss a week of school.

“I don’t know—”

“Last time I saw her was yesterday morning,” she interrupts him. “We left for school, and she was in the kitchen talking to Vaughn. We offered her a ride, but she said she wasn’t feeling well.”

No surprise there. She’s had morning sickness. I pull my cell out of my pocket and call her number. It goes straight to voicemail. “Hmm …” I do it again. By the third time of the same thing, I start to get nervous. “Bunny?” I call out, running up the stairs. “Bunny?” I enter my room to find it cleaner than how I left it, but again, no surprise. The maid cleans it. I walk into the bathroom and notice her toothbrush isn’t where it normally is.

Rushing out of my room, I run down the hall to the last room on the left to her door. “Presleigh?” I bark out, barging in. And my heart stops. The pink comforter and white sheets are stripped from the bed. All the drawers to her dresser are open and empty. “What the fuck? Presleigh?” I yell, and then I’m running again. Down the hallway, stairs, and to my father’s office. It’s empty. I shove open the door that leads to the cellar, and I jump down those stairs and run through the tunnel. I come to a stop when I see my father standing in the middle with Lance next to him. A woman lies on a table. Face down. She has bruises up and down her legs, and she bleeds from open cuts on her back. My presence cuts off whatever conversation my father and Lance were having and silence follows, letting me know that the girl must be sedated.

My heavy breathing is all that is heard. I take a step toward them. “Where is she?” I demand and immediately look around the cellar to see if she’s in here.

“Son …”

“Where the fuck is she?” I shout.

Lance looks at my father. “You have to tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

My father turns to me. “She left, Avery.”

I start shaking my head. “She wouldn’t have just left. What did you do to her?” I shout.

“It’s true,” he says. “She left yesterday morning.”

I run a hand through my hair. She tried calling me yesterday morning, but I was asleep with the time difference. I tried calling her back, but she never answered. I didn’t think much of it and just figured she was in school. And then came home to sleep. She’s always tired. “No,” I say. “She wouldn’t—”

“Mitch was here,” he interrupts me, and I fist my hands at my side at the sound of his name. “He came over, and they talked for a little bit. Then she packed up her stuff …”

“She’s not even eighteen,” I snap. “You can’t just let her leave.” She has to finish school.

“Avery …”

“No!” I roar. “That’s not possible.” It doesn’t make any sense. I take a step back and start dialing her number again. Straight to voicemail. She’s shut it off.

My father pulls his phone out, and after pressing a few buttons, he holds it up for me to see. It’s a video of her walking into the game room. She comes to a quick stop when she sees my brother Vaughn and Mitch playing pool.