Page 32 of Torment

“I don’t really know her other friends, to be honest. I’m not sure they even know that Jolie and I still speak.” I wrinkled my forehead in a faux-concerned expression. “What do you think happened to her? She has to be okay, right?”

“At this point, we honestly don’t know. It’s like she’s vanished off the face of the earth. Didn’t take anything with her, except her purse and her car, and she wasn’t in the swamp with them.” She hesitated for a brief moment. “Sorry, that’s really all I can tell you about the investigation. I wish I had better news for you, though.”

I rubbed my chin, pretending to muse over the situation. “She’s moved away without warning before, to try and start over in other places. All over the country. I hate to say it, but she’s a little… unstable,” I said delicately.

“I’m aware of her past tendencies.”

“Well, I suppose she might’ve done that again. Run away. So what about her phone? Was that in the purse? If not, could you trace her activity and see where she’s gotten to?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. I was playing with the cop now. Didn’t need to, but I found it amusing.

“We have people working on that. But obviously I can’t reveal the exact details of the investigation."

“Of course.” I picked up the container again. “Well, I guess I’ll hold onto this little guy until she decides to come back.”

Beck nodded. “I’m sure Jo would appreciate it. I mean… Jolie.”

“Is there anything else you want to know?” I asked. “Some way I can help?”

“I’d like for you to come in and give a statement about this note you claim to have received from the neighbor,” she said. “I understand you must be a busy man, but could you make yourself available for that at some point in the next few days?”

“I’m sure I can manage it.”

She flashed me the briefest of smiles. “Thank you, Mr. Ashwood. I’ll be in touch.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I waited for her to leave before I got in my car and took off in the other direction, heading out of the city toward St. James. In the back, several shopping bags and boxes were stacked up next to Buddy’s container. They were filled with brand new purchases for Jolie.

My plan for her hadn’t changed. Only my strategy. I was still going to shatter her into pieces, just as she left me all those years ago, and when she was completely broken, I would put her back together long enough for her to be able to answer all my questions.

Unfortunately, as I’d recently discovered, inflicting terrible pain upon her fragile body wasn’t enough to break her. I obviously needed to adjust my torture tactics somehow. After searching my soul over the last week, the answer finally dawned on me. I knew exactly how to get under her skin.

The same way she’d gotten under mine.

Nothing would break her until she knew exactly what it felt like to go through what I did all those years ago. Back then, I was deeply in love with her. Deeply in lust, too. She consumed my every thought, and I would have done anything to hold her and touch her.

As much as it pained me to admit it, a small part of me still wanted her in that way, even after everything she’d put me through.

It wasn’t logical or emotional. It was just physical; a natural biological response to the sight of a beautiful woman. But it was still there. An undeniable natural magnetism between us. I wanted to hate her with every inch of my soul, but my body spoke the truth every time my cock hardened in her presence. Every time I was struck by the urge to sink into her soft heat despite my better judgment.

I hated her, but I wanted her.

I knew now that I needed to embrace those physical instincts of mine and turn them against her. I needed to make her want me again, the way I once wanted her. The way I still wanted her. I had to make her feel the same way about me as I did about her when she betrayed me and abandoned me, leaving me burned and broken on the side of a road.

So that was the new strategy. I would corrupt her feelings again, and I would make her crave me. I would make her need me more than the air she breathed. When she closed her eyes, she would imagine I was there with her, my cock spreading her soft folds wide, driving into her mercilessly. She would beg for it, driven mad by the lusty torment.

When I finally got her to that stage, I would tear it all away, leaving her wrecked and rejected. Heartbroken and burned. Then I would finally be able to destroy her. Degrade her. Carve out her soul and leave nothing behind but an empty, broken shell.

She would talk then. Tell me everything I wanted to know. She would be too broken to fight me any longer.

Excitement flowed through my veins like electricity as I drove past the magnolias and live oaks which shaded the road ahead. I couldn’t fucking wait to see Jolie. She was probably missing me too, after a whole week without me. Even though I’d done nothing but torture her since I kidnapped her, I was now the only person in her cloistered little existence, and she knew it. People always craved contact from others in the end—it was part of human nature—so when the effects of the seemingly endless days of isolation finally set in, she would begin to miss my presence whether she wanted to or not.

That was good. It meant I already had a head start on my new strategy.

I felt a sudden sensation of something sharp and hot crystallizing inside me, a fleeting concern cooling into rigid resolve. If I somehow failed to break Jolie with this new idea, I would be totally and utterly fucked, because I didn’t have another backup plan. That meant I had to make sure I didn’t fail.

Fiery fingers of determination reached into my heart, filling me with strength and confidence. I could do this. Easily. After all, I’d done it before.

An hour later, I parked outside the lake house and strode right down to Jolie’s underwater cell. She was curled up on the mattress with a book in her hand. When she heard me enter, she tilted her face toward me. Her expression was a mixture of fear and anticipation, and her eyes were puffy and red, as if she’d been crying. A lot.

Was she weeping for herself, or for me?

I stepped closer, reveling in the way she quivered as I approached. Crouching down, I extended a hand to her. “Hi, pretty girl,” I murmured, gently caressing her fingers. ”I’m home.”

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