Page 72 of Slaughter

If I had the energy, I’d get out of bed and use this moment as an opportunity, but instead, I yawn and close my eyes. My legs are Jell-O and my mind foggy. My ass is sore and my body tired. Any attempt to escape will have to wait until later.

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I sit on the end of the bed where Avery fucked me earlier. Alone. Fresh out of the shower. It’s late; the sun must have set hours ago. I don’t know where we are or why we’re here. When I woke up from my nap, I was alone in bed. I just laid here while I allowed the drugs to work their way out of my system. Then when I felt like I could stand without getting dizzy or falling over, I got up and showered. I needed to feel refreshed. When I got out of the shower, there was a tray full of food in my new room. I ate a piece of toast and drank the glass of water. It helped clear the fog a little bit.

My dream of him letting me go home starts to fade as reality reminds me it’s not gonna happen. Why is he moving me? Does it have to do with me or him? Maybe he’s here on business but didn’t wanna leave me behind. Or maybe he brought me here to meet up with Preston. Could this be over? My heart starts to pick up pace as I think about being able to go back to my house in New York. Hell, I would go to some shitty little town no one has ever heard of if it meant he was done with me.

I need away from him. He’s clouding my mind with sex and drugs. And not the kind I prefer.

A knock sounds on the door, and I wrap the towel tightly around myself. “Come in,” I say, surprised whoever it is didn’t just barge right in.

A woman in her fifties enters the room. She has jet black hair and red colored lips. Bright green eyes and a button nose. She’s beautiful.

“Presleigh,” she says with an accent I can’t quite place.

“Yes?”

She smiles warmly, shutting the door behind her. “I’m Claire, and I am here to get you ready.”

“Ready?”

She doesn’t give me any more details than that, and I don’t ask any more questions. What’s the point? Everyone is on his payroll, and I’m just the girl who he is keeping for leverage.

An hour later, my hair is up in a big bun, the curls pinned to perfection. My makeup is done a little heavier than I like, but I won’t deny it looks beautiful. My blue eyes lined with thick black liner and cream and black shadows. She put a soft nude color on my lips with a coat of clear gloss. It’s the first time I’ve worn makeup since I’ve been with him because I haven’t had a reason to. She walks into the closet and comes back out with a black beaded dress, mermaid style. It’s backless, dipping low to the top of my ass. The front also is low cut, and I realize I’m not gonna be able to wear a bra.

“This is going to look fabulous on you.” She beams. “Avery has such great taste.” She winks at me, and I’m not sure if she’s talking about me or the dress. “He’s going to fall in love the moment he sees you.”

I wonder if she knows that he already loved me once. And that it’s impossible now. Sometimes, too much happens, and you can’t get back what was broken.

She helps me out of the towel wrapped around my chest and into the dress. She doesn’t give me any underwear. I should feel modest, but years of spreading my legs cured me of that.

She turns me to face the mirror, looking at me over my shoulder. “Stunning,” she whispers. “He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

I wish! I still have an ache between my legs. Even after coming twice earlier.

The door opens, and I keep my back to it. She looks up and smiles. “Mr. Decker. Perfect timing.”

He doesn’t say anything, but she pats my shoulder before she walks out, shutting the door behind her. Closing us in together.

I hear his shoes clapping on the light hardwood before I see him come up behind me in the large floor-length mirror.

His eyes are downcast, looking at my bare back and barely covered ass. He reaches out, his hand cupping my right cheek, and I try not to flinch. But fail. “You look gorgeous,” he says softly.

I don’t say anything. Instead, I look over his all black tuxedo. It does things to my heart that I want to ignore. He isn’t the same guy I fell in love with all those years ago. And I’m no longer that naïve girl who thought she could survive on love and hope. I was delusional.

He walks into the closet, and after a few seconds, he walks out with a black fur coat draped over his right forearm. His left hand grips a short chain that connects to two black leather cuffs lined with black fur.

My heart rate picks up. Taking a step back, I turn to face him.

“I have business to attend, and you will accompany me,” he says as if I ever thought I had a choice.

“What kind of business?” I ask as my mouth goes dry. “What do you do, Avery?”

His eyes drill into mine, and he ignores my second question. “The kind that requires a beautiful woman at my side.”

I swallow, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. What could he possibly make me do getting this dressed up and yet make me wear those? “They have to be cuffed?”

“Yes,” he answers simply.

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