Page 33 of The Prey

Why didn’t I kill him when I had the chance? Stick my knife in his stomach and gut him like a fish?

“I don’t care what hold he had on you before. You're mine,” I snap. “My property,” I add at the last moment.

The words send her diving headfirst back into reality. The hazy look in her eyes disappears, and instead, the Elyse I’ve slowly watched her transform into reappears.

“I'm no one’s property. I belong to myself. And even if I didn’t, I’d never willingly belong to that asshole. I’d rather die than return to him or my father.”

Apparently, I haven’t made myself clear enough. “I don’t care about Yanov or whatever disgusting obsession he has with you. Until your debt is paid, the one from your father and the one you accrued all on your own in my closet, you’re mine. Every breath, whisper, tear. It’s mine. You belong to me entirely, and I’ll do whatever I want with you.”

She nods, even though the look on her face tells me she wants to fight me. “Whatever. I get it. I’m forever in your debt.”

“Exactly. We’re not equals. And don’t ever think that we are because I won’t hesitate to remind you of the truth.”

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and turns away from me. “You only care about me enough to ensure my father’s debt to you is paid. Not because I’m a human who deserves to be cared for, right?”

Wrong. I want to tell her so badly it hurts, but this can only end one of two ways, and I’m not going to lead her along. I can’t have her, not beyond the capacity of her debt being repaid.

“Right, Little Prey. My only care for you is to ensure you stay alive long enough to repay your father’s debt.”

“I hate you,” she whispers, and I almost tell her that I hate myself, too. Instead, I take a drink of the whiskey and let it burn away the guilt that’s threatening to choke me.

“Get in line, sweetheart. There’s a lot of fuckers who hate me, and you are merely a number at this point.”

15

Sebastian

Several silent hours later, I find myself staring out the window on the opposite side of the plane as we land in Oakmount. I’ve had far too much time to think about what happened between Elyse and me and what I said to her when she finally broke the silence and asked her questions.

Now I feel like an asshole, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I mean, I’m supposed to be an asshole, but I can’t help the pang of guilt that stabs my chest every time I cut her down. The guilt is getting harder and harder to cover up.

Everything that could possibly go wrong is going wrong. I suppose there is hope, a silver lining in all of this being that we’re finally home, and I won’t be confined to this damn tin can with her a moment longer.

I’ve got enough shit on my plate without having to worry about Elyse having a psycho stalker, and even if it isn’t my problem, I’ve made it mine. After witnessing the way he talked about her, and touched her, I won’t rest until I find a way to make him disappear.

Adding Tanya into the mix just gives me a headache. I couldn’t have predicted how far she would go to secure her position in the Arturo family, but one thing is clear: Yanov was at Pound of Flesh because Tanya tipped him off.

Maybe I’ll call some old friends, let them know what’s coming their way

Tanya’s wily as fuck. She’s bound to have realized why I was so intent on going to the flesh market and parading Ely in front of Sidorov…none of which would have been advantageous for her. If I were to sell out to Sidorov, she’d stand to lose everything she’d become accustomed to. I knew she’d try to block me at some point; I just didn’t anticipate this particular move this soon.

How does she even know Sidorov? There was no reason for her to have ever attended Pound of Flesh; therefore, there was no reason for her to be in contact with him. I can’t wrap my head around all the things going on. There are too many moving pieces, and I’m starting to underestimate those closest to me. I need to get back on track.

And the first thing I need to do to ensure that happens is to keep Elyse as far away from me as possible.

The plane finally comes to a stop, and the flight attendant opens the door. Ely stands and slides past me, out the door, and down the small staircase in a flash. I follow her but keep my gaze alert. I don't think we've seen the last of Yanov, not by a long shot. His obsession with her runs bone deep, and I’ll need to stay vigilant if I’m going to try to get rid of him.

Nevertheless, regardless of what I manipulate Elyse into believing he will never get his hands on her again. I make a mental note to get in touch with my PI. I need all the information available on him. It’s clear that fucker, Yanov, doesn’t know how powerful my family is, because if he did he wouldn’t be challenging me like he is.

It doesn’t matter, though. He might think I’m young, maybe even naive, but he has no idea who he’s fucking with. I’m not soft, nor am I empathetic. If you fuck with me, I will fuck you back, and I won’t use lube.

Ely is in the car, waiting and ready. I slip into the seat beside her, but she ignores me. Who’s giving who the silent treatment now? I guess I should be happy she’s not yapping my ear off, but for some reason, her silence infuriates me more now. The entire drive to the estate is filled with silence, and the pressure inside the car becomes suffocating.

Funny how silence isn’t silence at all. In fact, it’s just a space where unsaid words hover between two people. I can’t explain the relief I feel when we pull up the long driveway to the house. It’s so nice to be home, even if Tanya is here.

The car has barely come to a stop, and Ely is opening her door and hopping out. I follow more slowly. Not like she can get very far on the estate. I'll give her a few minutes of alone time before I make my next demand. After all, the things that happened at Pound of Flesh changed nothing. She’s still the maid. I’m still her boss.

I clear the foyer and head directly to the kitchen for a proper drink. There's a bar in my room, but I need an ice bucket and a lot of whiskey to recover from the past twenty-four hours.

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