Page 28 of Slaughter

I refuse to bend to his demands. I haven’t seen him in years, and then all of a sudden, I see him three times in one month. What is his game?

Why does he even care? I left a world that would end up killing us both. Now he’s dragged me back into hell.

I pat myself down and realize I don’t have any pockets for my phone. Walking into the bedroom, I yank the comforter back to see if it’s on the bed. When I don’t see anything, I fall to the floor and yank up the bed skirt. There’s nothing under the bed. “Where is it?” I growl to myself. I search all over the bedroom for my phone and my purse but come up empty-handed. I go over to the other door and yank it open, finding a walk-in closet. I ignore the rows of hanging clothes and go to the black safe that sits on the floor in the back. It’s about three feet tall and two feet wide with a keypad. I rub my hands over my face and sigh. My mind is too foggy. My body too tired to think clearly. “Think.” What numbers would he use to unlock a safe? I try his birthday. Nothing. I try his father’s. Mother’s. Both of his brother’s. Letting out a long breath, I try mine. I laugh when it denies me too. Of course, he wouldn’t use mine. I mean nothing to him.

Sitting back on my heels, I run a hand through my tangled hair. Fuck! Now what?

I stand and turn around to leave the closet but stop in my tracks when I spot the stuffed bunny sitting on the top shelf to the right. Its black eyes staring at me, freezing me to my core.

“Happy seventh birthday, Presleigh,” my best friend, Avery, says.

“Thank you,” I say as I take the little box from him.

“Open it,” he says excitedly.

I look up at my mommy. She told me I couldn’t open any of my presents until my party later. “Go ahead,” she urges.

I pull back the pink wrapping paper and toss it to the floor to reveal a white box. I tear it open as well to see a stuffed bunny inside. “She’s so pretty,” I tell him, smiling down at her. She’s white with big, floppy ears and a little pink nose. I squeeze her to my chest and beam. “Thank you, Avery.”

My mom picks up the trash and walks away, and I catch him staring at me with a smile on his face. “What?” I ask.

He takes a step toward me and flicks one of my pigtails. “Your hair reminds me of the bunny’s floppy ears.” He laughs. “I’m gonna call you Bunny.”

My heart pounds in my chest at that memory. It’s like a ghost that haunts me. He kept it after all these years? Why? To shove it in my face? To make me remember that he was once my friend, then lover turned enemy?

I practically run out of the closet and slam it shut. He’s not gonna play this game with me. Not now. Not ever.

I exit my room and come to a long hallway. My options are to turn left or right. In front of me is a wrought-iron railing, so I walk over to it and look down into the foyer of his house. I’m not surprised to see that it’s just as big and expensive looking as the houses we grew up in. I make my way over to the winding staircase to my left, keeping my right hand on the rail for support. The stairs are steep, and my legs still shake. My bare feet hit the white tile floor of the foyer, and I look around. Soft crème walls and high ceilings. No pictures. No art. Bare. Just like my house.

Slowly, I explore the large living room over to the adjoining room.

I walk into the dining room, and he looks up at me from his place at the head of the large mahogany table. It could easily fit twelve guests. His jaw tightens and his eyes narrow when he sees I didn’t change. Then a slow smile spreads across his face, and it looks more intimidating than his scowl. He lets out a deep laugh, and I hate how it makes butterflies form in my stomach. This is bad. Really bad.

“Something funny?” I snap.

He places his elbow on the table and runs his fingers along his lips. His blue eyes slowly look me up and down. And I wish I would have changed into something that covered more of my skin. “Just admiring how much you like being punished.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “Punished?” My mouth goes dry, and I immediately rub my tender neck.

He nods once and then drops his eyes to his phone. “Every time you disobey me, I’ll punish you.”

I tighten my jaw. “Fuck you.”

“That makes two punishments. Wanna make it three?” he asks, not looking back up at me.

I decide to shut my mouth and plop down on the seat to his left. I take a look around to see a floor-to-ceiling window behind him and nothing but woods beyond it...

“Stop.”

My eyes go to his, and he must have been watching me. He sits back in his chair. “Let’s get the ground rules out of the way. One, you’re mine.” My eyes narrow. “Two, I’ll do with you what I want, whenever I want.”

“You will not …”

“Three, you disobey, I’ll punish you. And four, don’t even think about running.”

So he was watching me.

“I placed a tracker in your left arm when you arrived,” he says calmly as if we’re discussing the weather and not my imprisonment.

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