Page 77 of Simply You & Me

I expect a hit to make me open my eyes, but the fucker tickles my foot. I jolt, unable to help my annoyed growl, but what has me stalling is the state he has me in. My socks and shoes are gone, as are my leggings. How did I miss that when I woke up? I thought I had been here long enough for the chill in my bones to set in, but I'm bare to the harsh conditions instead. In panties and a T-shirt, Johnny leers at me from the same wooden chair as the last time. I’m back in the same damn cell.

"I would wonder why the world hates you so much when you’re helpless in front of me again for the third time in your life, wouldn't you? Pretty, sad, helpless, damaged, Addie May." His eyes bore into the scars of my thighs, but I let him see. Maybe he won't touch me if he's repulsed.

Another word stood out, though. I'm not helpless. Rubbing my ear to my shoulder, I feel the familiar prick of the stud on my skin.

My weapon. Even if I die here, maybe I can get Wyatt enough information to take this bastard down once and for all.

"I'm not the only thing that's sad here though, am I, Johnny? You're so jealous of what they've built that you came after them. Really?" I'm taunting him. I know it, and it puts me and the baby at risk, but I am not powerless.

Faster than I can track, his hand has my ankle snatched in his tight grip. A faint touch brings my attention to the knife poised to shred my foot apart. "Listen, bitch! They fucked up. I have all the cred here. Why do you think they hired me to go after your little bitch boys?"

"Who? Your mom?" I don't hide my little smirk. He always hated it when I'd poke his buttons. And he had many.

A sharp sting in the arch of my foot makes me hiss, but at least he keeps talking. "Your little blond boyfriend and his slut of a sister made some people really mad. Some important people."

"That makes you their bitch." I state, knowing he's trying to prove himself as important, too. I'll just keep taking him down a peg until I can't.

A traitorous whine slips out when the knife drags further across my foot. "No, it makes me the best. The Carters want me so bad they'll pay me more money than you've ever seen in your tiny, pathetic life."

"Why would anyone want you?" Another rip in my skin, but worth it.

"Why wouldn't they?!" He roars, spit hitting me in the cheek. "That scrawny boy killed their fucking kid, and I'm the only one they trust to break him."

Fuck, I know this. The pieces click together. Tate killed Mason, Rylee's abusive ex, four years ago. I didn't realize Mason's parents were a problem, though. Maybe nobody did. Fuck. Okay.

"That just means you expendable, Johnny," I tsk, egging him on even as the burn in my foot increases.

"I AM NOT! The Davises hired me too, you slut! Your blond little gay boy is a fuckup! They trust me to ruin their son. Nobody disrespects us and gets away with it."

I'm trembling now. The full force of his rage aimed at me is too much, but I keep pushing. Keep poking. Keep fighting even with a knife slowly skinning my foot. "You aren't one of them, Johnny. That's what makes you sad. You're the lackey. The expendable one. The one they send to do their dirty work and I bet they don't even care if you die."

I don't see the slap coming until my cheekbone is throbbing in protest and he's straddling my waist. Fuck, he moves fast.

"THEY ALL WANT ME! Your gay boy band sent the wrong people to prison, and now they. Want. ME! Every single one of the fuckers hired me! Because they want ME!"

I have a moment to feel bad for the little boy this man used to be. The little boy who probably just needed to feel wanted and loved. He never talked about his family much, but this is enough.

The moment’s gone in a blur of limbs and a shiny blade whipping past my face. My left shoulder protests at the angle he splays my arm at as my right forearm screams in agony as his knee holds it down. Then the blade is there, teasing circles across my left, vulnerable forearm. The sight makes me nauseous. My body already telling me what I refuse to acknowledge.

"How anybody wants your fucked up flesh is beyond me, Add.” He sighs my name like he's disappointed while staring reverently at my arm. "How ironic would it be if you died the same way you lived? Slashed and bleeding."

It's not slow and torturous. Johnny just stabs and drags. Vertically. Ripping through my most precious artery.

Screaming. So much screaming. Shouts and bangs. So much blood. Too much blood. Stars and shadows, bursts of flames. Then a tunnel. There was so much blood. Then darkness.

Chapter Fifty-One

Zachary

"Oh my god," Tate groans. "Why is she fucking acting like that? She could get hurt!"

Listening in on Adelyn's conversation with Cadell is a new form of torture I didn't think could exist. Nor was finding Julian waking up in his busted fucking car with Addie nowhere in sight.

"That just means you expendable, Johnny." Addie's voice filters through the SUV speakers, Cadell's roar right on its heels.

I grit my teeth, slamming my foot to the floor. "Zach, go fucking faster!" Wyatt yells through the speakers, too.

"I AM!" I can't hold in my rage and fear any longer. The SUV careens around a corner, the GPS telling me we're two minutes out. "Julian, vest, now. Comms!" We each put our earpieces in to connect us to Wyatt.

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