Page 14 of Devil's Riches

4

Alexis

It wasdark when I woke up. Before I registered what had happened to me, I felt a throb in my arms and shins. I let out a feeble groan and tried to move, but I could barely move a muscle.

“What’s happening?” I muttered, weakly raising my head. By now, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so I could see enough to get an idea of what was going on around me.

When I finally realized why I couldn’t move, my chest constricted, sucking the air clean from my lungs. Someone had stripped me naked and tied me down to a raised bench.

“Shit!” I tried my best to move my arms and legs to break out of the bindings, but it was useless. I was trapped.

As the crushing reality set in, my heart raced and sweat beaded on my hairline. Where was I? How did I get here? Where the hell was Nate?

Dark, nightmarish memories finally began to filter back into my mind, filling me with bone-chilling terror. I knew what had happened now. Nate’s uncle Greg had stolen his car and taken me with him.

There was no telling how long I’d been in the back of that car, because I’d been completely out of it on the chemicals Greg forced me to inhale. I remembered trying to count the minutes in my disoriented daze, but I’d lost count somewhere after five. That must’ve been when I passed out.

I could be anywhere on the island by now. Hell, I might not even be on Avalon at all. For all I knew, Greg had a boat at one of the ports, and he’d sailed us over to the mainland while I was out cold.

The only thing I knew for sure was that there was no point screaming for help. Greg was obviously smart enough to take me to a place where I wouldn’t be heard. That narrowed things down a bit—I obviously wasn’t in a public area—but it wasn’t enough to be helpful.

Gritting my teeth, I raised my chin and moved my head around as best I could, trying to get a better idea of my location based on what I could see.

Beyond the bench I was strapped to, there was a wide wooden door. On my right was a window covered in what appeared to be cardboard. There was some light streaming through the visible glass on the very edges of the cardboard, and the faint purplish color of it told me that it was either very early in the morning or early in the evening.

Tilting my head to the other side, I peered down at the floor. It was concrete with oil stains and the odd crack here and there, including a large one in the shape of an X. Something about it seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.

An old toolbox lay tipped on its side about two feet away from the crack. It was empty.

Dammit. There was nothing I could grab as a makeshift weapon, even if I managed to get one of my arms free.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. All I could do was lie here and take what was coming. No amount of wishing, praying, or begging would set me free. I should’ve accepted that about my life a long time ago.

Footsteps began to echo somewhere outside. Greg was back.

He opened the door and stepped inside. I heard him moving around in the darkness for a moment, fumbling with something. Then there was a clicking sound and a bar-shaped fluorescent lamp switched on, flooding the room with bright light. My eyes immediately began to water, and I closed them and tilted my head away from the lamp.

Greg grabbed my chin and pulled my head back around, forcing me to look up at him. He’d trimmed his wild hair and beard, making him look less like a caveman and more like a Lockwood.

“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” he said, leering down at me. “You’ve been out most of the day. Probably exhausted from getting railed by my nephew for the last few weeks, huh?”

“What?” I mumbled.

“You were saying his name in your sleep and moaning like a bitch in heat.” Greg gripped my chin harder, digging his fingers in until I felt like my jaw would snap off. “I knew there was something going on between you two. Must be kinky as fuck, too. I saw that scar on your leg. Killer, huh?” He smirked and shook his head. “You two must be into some weird shit.”

I didn’t bother arguing. What was the point?

Greg dropped his hand from my face and stooped by the lamp. There was a large black bag next to it that I hadn’t noticed until now.

“Supplies,” Greg said, noticing the direction of my gaze. “I did some shopping while you were asleep. You know what’s great about supposedly being dead for ten years?”

“No,” I muttered, confused about the sudden segue.

“No one looks at you twice. They might think there’s a passing similarity between you and the person they once knew—or knew of—but that’s it. Eyes glaze over and they tune you right out. You’re just another random stranger to them.” He paused and cocked his head. “You’d think it’d be the opposite, right? Like they’d look at you as if they’d just seen a ghost. But no. Like I said, no one looked at me twice.”

“Does that mean we’re still on the island?” I asked. Surely he wouldn’t have been worried about getting recognized by anyone if we were anywhere else.

Greg let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t get any ideas, sweetheart. No one is gonna find you here. Remember, it’s a big fucking island.”

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