Page 83 of Slaughter

“That’s a shame. I wanted to have the set,” he mutters before taking a drink.

I arch a brow. “What do you mean by the set?”

He smiles that smile that makes even my skin crawl and nods once. “I have her mother. I love having mothers and daughters.”

I stare at him, unable to keep the surprised look off my face. “Her mother is dead,” I say slowly.

He shakes his head. “She’s very much alive.”

I swallow. My throat all of a sudden dry. “You must be mistaken.” Her parents died when Presleigh was fifteen. Preston seventeen. I remember it very clearly because I worried about her for weeks afterward. She didn’t show much grief for either of them. She never was close to her dad. She hated that man, but I expected her to feel something for the loss of her mom. She closed off and shut me out for a while, but the breakdown I kept waiting for never came.

That was also when they moved in with us. They had no other family. Nowhere else to go. Since my father and hers were best friends, he took them in to live with us.

“Presleigh wasn’t the only one who her brother tried to sell.”

My mind is foggy. My chest tight. “Wait,” I say, waving a hand. “What do you mean sell?” Who said he was trying to sell Presleigh? I thought he wanted her for revenge?

His smile disappears, and he huffs as if he is dealing with an idiot. I am at the moment because I’m confused as fuck.

“Their father owned slaves just like your father.” I nod. I know that much. “Their father died in a plane crash. The news broke and said that the mother was with him, but she wasn’t. She was back at home. Preston was in debt. A lot at the age of seventeen. He already had a gambling problem and was into slaves just like his father. It’s no secret their dad was one of my worst enemies, so Preston sold his mother to cover all his debt.”

No fucking way this is true. “I don’t believe it,” I say, shaking my head.

He digs into his suit jacket pocket and removes his cell. He presses a few buttons and then slides the iPhone across the table. I pick it up when it comes to a stop in front of me. “Just press play.”

I do as he says, and a woman comes into view. She kneels in the middle of a carpeted room. Her hands are tied behind her back with rope from her wrists all the way up to her upper arms. Her head is bowed, brown hair shielding her face from the camera. Whoever is holding the camera walks around her slowly, giving a three-sixty view of her. Damon stands in front of her, his hands behind his back, staring down at the woman.

“I have some good news,” he says cheerfully.

She slowly lifts her head, but the camera is now behind her, and I’m still unable to see her face. “You’re dying?” she asks dryly.

He laughs at her insult and then smiles down at the woman. “No. I was just informed that your daughter has been kidnapped and sold for two million.”

“No,” she whispers.

“Yes.” He brings his hands around and claps once. “But I’m gonna offer three. Wouldn’t that be fun? Me, you, and her. I’d love to watch her scream like I have watched you all these years.”

The woman jumps to her feet and runs right at him as a scream erupts from her lips.

He reaches out and wraps his hand around her neck and slams her back onto the floor. “You …” He cuts off her air while she thrashes under his hold.

And I feel the breath leave my lungs when I get a clear view of her face. Those same blue eyes that Presleigh has. Her dark hair has quite a bit of gray in it, and it is all different lengths as though someone just started cutting away and not caring about how it would look after it’s done. But there’s no mistaking … It’s her.

“Carl, get the paddle and chains,” he orders. “It’s time to play.”

I turn off the video unable to watch any more of it. I feel sick. I shove his phone back across the table to him. He laughs, not seeing the look of disgust on my face. “She’s always been a fireball, but since then, she’s been a fucking match.”

I feel my cell vibrate in my pocket, and I dig it out.

Three-minute warning.

It’s a text from my brother. “I need to make a call,” I say. Standing from the table, I walk out of the room, not caring how disrespectful it is.

Tristan picks up on the first ring. “What are you …?”

“Call it off!” I snap.

“What?” He sighs. “Avery, she’s not here. Nothing will happen to her. All you gotta do is duck …”

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