Page 120 of Wicked Devotion
As soon as we arrived at our destination, three men pulled Ruby away from me, deeper into the run-down building, while Daryl led me to this godforsaken room. For hours, I heard Ruby screaming at the men. Knowing she was still here, still fighting back, gave me some sense of hope. But then it got quiet.
I can’t sleep. I don’twantto fall asleep because when I do, I dream of Max and Logan. Of the life I could have had if I wasn’t so impossibly dumb and irresponsible. It gets harder to keep myself from drifting off, and in this state between sleep and reality, I hear their voices. So I open my eyes, thinking they are here, but all I ever see is this room.
Decaying wallpaper hangs off walls full of black mold, the mountains of long-forgotten office supplies buried underneath years of dust and spiderwebs. And the window, thefuckingwindow, blacked out with spray paint and too high up for me to reach.
The door opens, and I stop my current attempt to get out of my restraints. I lift my gaze, expecting Daryl to visit me,holding yet another lecture on how I need to eat and drink, but the man entering my room is a stranger.
Tall and lanky, he struts inside, sliding his hand over his raggedy beard while coming closer. He looks at me in a way that makes my stomach churn. Determined. Disgusting; when his eyes linger on my chest, even as he pulls up a chair to sit down across from me.
“Your friend’s a real fighter. Has no manners either, like she was raised by a damn pack of rabid wolves.”
Leaning in, he wipes his bloodied hands clean on my jeans. Too high on my thighs, and I flinch, trying to scoot away, but as I slide back with my chair, he hooks his feet under the legs and pulls me closer, closer than I had been before.
“Sorry, I think we got off to a bad start,” he says, grabbing my right hand as if to shake it. “Let’s just try again. Randy Banks,” he says, grinning at me with a mouth full of rotting teeth.
He puts his hand on my cheek, wiping away a few stray tears as I speak up, my voice barely more than a trembling whisper.
“I’ll pay back whatever Brady owes you. More, if it’s necessary. Please, just tell me a sum, and I’ll make sure you get your money.”
Randy laughs, unrestrained, and his grip on me tightens.
“Princess, we’re so fucking far past the point of talking about money. And now that I’ve seen you for myself, I’m way more fond of the deal your rat of a husband had proposed.”
Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I try to keep more tears from falling while I think back to the conversation in my living room that took place right when my life was torn to shreds.
The boss has a thing for girls who look all prim and innocent.
“I mean, I could kill you right now if that’s what youwant.” Randy shrugs, his hand wandering to his back. “But I think I might keep you. For a short while; or a longer one, depends on you, princess. I’ve been looking for a new girl, anyway.”
He puts his gun on one of the cardboard boxes next to him, the muzzle pointed at me.
“You know how it is… They never last long. I really wonder why.”
And that’s when I can no longer hold the tears back. They roll down my cheeks, big, fat, stupid tears that I don’t even deserve to cry because all of this is my fault.
“Hey, hey,” Randy tuts, cradling my face. His face is too close to mine, and I fight to keep the bile down.
“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t cry,” he says, but the hint of compassion disappears as quickly as it came. “Stop fucking crying, Lillian.”
Digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand, I try to focus.
“I’ll stay. I won’t cause you any trouble, but please let Ruby go. She has nothing to do with this.”
“You don’t seem to understand, princess. I don’t need your money because your little friend is going to make me enough for both of you. I’ve already got a long list of people who’d like to have a go at her.”
I avert my gaze–and learn quickly that this is another thing Randy doesn’t like. He slaps my cheek so hard I can still feel the tingling sensation, even when his hand is long gone.
“You’re awfully quiet, princess. What is it? You don’t like your new home? The food?Me?”
“No, no, I’m just–nervous,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. “I’d feel much better if you could remove these.” I glance down at the cable ties around my wrists, relieved when Randy does the same. “Daryl put them on really tight, they hurt, and—”
“Can’t have that,” Randy says, his knife piercing my skin when he hooks it under the ties to cut them off. “Gonna have a little talk with him later. Don’t like it when someone else breaks my dolls before I have a chance to do it.”
He leans in, and when he slides his thumb over my bottom lip, I take the one chance I get and ram my fist into his stomach. I jump up from my chair, running toward the door, but Randy grips a fistful of my hair, yanking me back with a strength I didn’t expect from him.
“Nasty bitch,” he snarls, shoving me so hard I fall down. “I really thought this could work out, Lillian. I didn’t drive all the way out here for you to treat me like this. You’re gonna fucking entertain me, one way or another,” he says, his knife still in hand when he steps over me.
But then, a sound coming from the hallway catches Randy’s attention. Lifting his index finger to his mouth, he stands still like a statue. Once we both realize that the sounds outside aren’t just a tiny commotion but screams echoing off the walls, he turns around, scrambling to lock the door.
