Page 68 of Slaughter

The following morning, I have breakfast alone. I sit at the table, finishing off my eggs, and look around the silent formal dining room. I have an uneasy feeling. The house has been quiet. Silent even. I think Avery and the guys might not even be here. Avery had put Darrell on babysitting duty, but yesterday he quit standing outside my room. I heard his phone ring. He answered and gave a few, “Yes, sirs,” then I heard him walk away and down the stairs. I haven’t seen anyone actually. I’ve had this eerie feeling. It’s not like someone is watching me because the truth is, they are. Wherever Avery is and whatever he is doing, he has those damn cameras trained on me. And I can’t help but always stare at them, wondering what he’s thinking. Or what he’s waiting for. How long will I be here?

Maybe I’m bait. He could be keeping me holed up here in order to get Preston to come after me. But what would he do to my brother if he showed up? And let’s face it, Preston only cares about himself. So if my life is in his hands, I’m as good as dead anyway.

So many questions that I can’t even ask. Avery wouldn’t even acknowledge them, let alone answer me.

“Did you have enough, Miss Clarke?”

I jump when Marvin enters the dining room. “Yes.”

“Did you get enough?” he asks, and I nod.

Grabbing my plate, he turns and walks away, once again leaving me alone. I stand from my chair and walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I look out over the tall trees, wondering where in the hell I am. After Avery walked away from me, I never tried to find him. And I never opened any social media page. I stayed under the radar for a reason and it was to avoid the situation I’m in now. For all I know, we’re not even in the US. Dark gray clouds cover the sky, making me wish I was still in bed.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I whisper to myself.

Turning around, I walk out of the dining room and down the long hall that I know leads to his study. He seems to keep a nice collection of scotch in there. And I could use another drink.

I sit behind his desk and stare at his computer but don’t touch it. There’s no point. He has all his shit on lockdown. I do try all his drawers in his desk, though, but again, they’re all locked.

Looking around, I sigh when I see nothing that can get me drunk. He’s either hidden it or drank it all.

I walk out of his office and back up to my room. I lie down on the bed and look up at the ceiling, trying to decide what I can do to get the fuck out of here. Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. I could seriously go back to sleep. My body teetered on sleeping and getting up for the day. But like every other day, I’m reminded there’s nothing to get up for. I may be sentenced to a fancy bedroom in a mansion, but I might as well be in a prison cell. I no longer know what day it is or even care.

My door opens, and I let out a sigh. No one ever knocks before entering my room. I have no privacy.

“Get up.”

I grind my teeth at the command of one of Avery’s men. I remain where I’m at.

The covers are ripped away from my body, and I cry out when a hand digs into my hair and I’m hauled out of bed. “I said get up!” I’m shoved against the wall and come face to face with the idiot Darrell. “When I tell you to do something, you do it.” He spits in my face before he lets go of me and walks into my bathroom. I hear him turn on the shower and then he enters my closet.

He walks out moments later with a bag over his shoulder. “Get cleaned up.” He looks me up and down with a scowl on his face. “We leave in an hour.”

My heart rate picks up. “Leave? Where are we going?”

He walks out without answering me. Maybe Avery has realized I’m a burden, and he’s taking me home.

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An hour later, I make my way down the winding staircase to the foyer. Darrell stands there with his shoulders back and arms crossed in front of him. He has an earpiece in his right ear and is dressed in a black button-down and black slacks. He looks like he works for the FBI.

He doesn’t acknowledge me in any way, and I don’t mind.

“Yes … I’m about to leave …”

I hear Avery’s voice coming down the hall from behind me, and I refuse to turn around to look at him. Still ashamed of getting turned on no matter what he does to me.

“We should arrive around seven tonight …” he continues to talk as he approaches us, then hangs up his cell and places it in the pocket. He wears a crimson button-down and black slacks. “Darrell, call Fritz and let him know we’re on our way,” he orders, and Darrell gives him a nod before he pulls out his cell while opening the front door.

“Where are we going?” I can’t help but ask, and I hope he doesn’t hear the excitement in my voice. This could be my chance to get away.

Darrell walks out the front door, and Avery turns to look down at me. His blue eyes give nothing away, but a muscle clenches in his jaw. He’s mad at me. It could be a number of things, but the thing is, I don’t care.

“Don’t think about running. I put a new tracker in you.” No surprise there. And I haven’t had a good escape plan worth trying since my second failed attempt. But that doesn’t mean I’ve given up hope either. “And good luck finding this one.” He takes my hand but doesn’t answer, dragging me out of the house and into his Escalade that awaits us in the drive.

My hands itch to slap him, just to get a reaction out of him. He took me, fucked me, and now, he ignores me.

I thought I preferred the silence, but it’s eating me alive. He types away on his phone as though I don’t even exist. Why take me away from my life, even if it wasn’t all that productive, only to treat me like I’m not even here? He’s playing head games with me. And they’re working.

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