Page 85 of Slaughter

“What is it?” I ask, looking at him.

“The front door is open.”

My eyes go to the door and see it wide fucking open. It’s three in the morning.

“Why would the door …?”

I don’t even wait for my brother to finish that question before I jump out of the back seat and run up the stairs into my house. I’ve got my gun drawn before I step inside.

“Bunny?” I yell, looking around the house. It’s pitch black. I turn on the lights. “Bunny?” I shout, then take off up the winding staircase and barge into her room. Her sheet and comfortable are tangled on the floor. Her nightstand turned over. Her fitted sheet is still on the bed but bunched up, ripped from the corners. And there’s blood on them.

My heart stops.

I walk over to the bed and run my fingers through it. It’s not a lot, but enough to make panic rise. I rip the sheet off the bed and storm into her bathroom. “Bunny?” I shout. What has she done?

“Avery …?”

“Bunny?” I scream out for her, interrupting my brother entering her bathroom. It’s empty, and everything is in its place. Just how it was before we left for Rio. “What the fuck did she do?” I ask more to myself than him.

“Avery, the cameras,” my brother reminds me

I run back down the stairs and into my study. He follows me. “Did you find Darrell?” I ask Kayn when he enters.

“Yeah. He’s been shot.”

“What? Please tell me Bunny did it.” I’d rather her gone crazy and escaped than the alternative.

He shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “No. It was recent. Said they just left twenty minutes ago.”

They? No. No. No.

I pull up my camera feed on my smart TV that hangs on the wall. I set the time I want it to start and go to the camera at the front door. A black two-door sedan pulls up and two men get out. They have their guns drawn as they make their way to the front door. They’re dressed in all black with black masks. They kick in the front door, and then you see the flash of gunfire.

I move to the cameras inside the house. They split up. One man runs up the stairs while the other goes to the back hall. You see Darrell come out of his room and is immediately shot in the arm.

I watch the man climbing the stairs two at a time. He enters Bunny’s room, and I see her jump when the door hits the interior wall with a bang. She shoves off the covers and goes to crawl off the other side of the bed, but he reaches over and grabs her by the ankle, yanking her back. She manages to kick him in the face, but he recovers quickly. He pulls a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, and I watch helplessly as he grabs her hands and pulls them behind her back, securing them tightly.

He then flips her over onto her back, pinning her arms underneath her, and she thrashes on the bed with her mouth opening and closing in screams. He slaps her across the face, snapping her head to the side. I fist my hands. Then he punches her in the face, and she spits blood onto her sheets.

He crawls on top of the bed and straddles her hips. He pulls a pocket knife out of his jeans and flips the blade open. His free hand pushes down on her face holding it to the side, facing the camera. Tears run down her cheek and her body shakes from sobs when he pushes the blade up against her neck. He cuts her open like a fucking fish, and she screams from the pain. And then he reaches in and digs out her tracker. He throws it to the floor and then tosses her over his shoulder and walks out of her room.

I continue to watch him carry her out my front door and throw her into the trunk of the car. He waits for his friend to return, and then they drive off.

PRESLEIGH

My head pounds, and my body aches. My arms are still cuffed behind my back, and I feel the blood slowly run out of the cut by my neck. I’m dizzy. Weak.

I feel like I’m back in the bathtub all over again.

I thought he was going to slit my throat.

My head bounces as I’m carried over someone’s shoulder. It’s dark outside, and my vision comes and goes, so I can’t see much.

I’m placed on my feet, but I sway. My hands are uncuffed, and I’m pushed onto a cold, stainless steel table. My head falls to the side, and I blink, seeing a few instruments on another table. But it’s blurry. I can’t focus on anything.

I’ve been drugged. Was it Avery? No …

My hands are brought down to my sides, and thick straps are wrapped around them. Holding me down as if my body could even fight them. I try to open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My shorts are ripped down my legs, and my legs are spread.

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