Page 18 of Ravaged
I could splash the cleaning supplies in his face. Burn his eyes.
And instantly wind up dead, because once he alerted the rest of the Adlers, I’d be gone.
I needed something that would kill him instantly. I didn’t know if I could actually go through with it, but I knew, deep down, that it was the only way I could get out alive.
But what would happen to Dad if I killed one of the Adlers, if I escaped?
Maybe it was better to learn their goal before I made plans of my own.
I inched up the stairs, one at a time, waiting for that creak. But it never came. At the top, I leaned my ear against the door.
“So you’re going to get him, then?” a new voice said.
“Yes.” Another voice, the male from the woods.
“And the girl?”
“Thewomanwill stay in the basement until we’ve collected.” That voice was Ethan. For him to call me ‘little one’ all night, then to snap at the word ‘girl’? What was his deal?
“Well, until then—”
They moved away, their voices growing less distinct. That confirmed it though. A debt to be collected. ItwasDad. There was comfort in that, knowing that my fate was ultimately tied up with someone familiar, even if I was simply a pawn to be moved from one place to the next like I always had.
I went down the steps. This time, the stairs creaked. I winced, waiting for the brothers to come storming down, but when I heard nothing, I continued. There had to be something I could use to defend myself. I circled around, going deeper. No windows. Nothing. Maybe I could break a piece of metal from the dog kennel’s bars somehow. Use it to stab them in the eyes.
In the corner farthest away from the door, a guitar was hidden in the shadows. Acoustic. Natural wood with a light red pattern in rectangles along the edges.
A film of dust covered my fingers. It must have been undisturbed for ages. Who had neglected it? It was nice, sturdy, and seemed expensive. I pulled the black and red strap over my head. The weight felt good, and the body covered my nudity, giving me some modesty. As if I still had any left after working at the Dahlia District.
Still, it was different here. It was one thing to take off your clothes for money, quite another to be ordered to undress under a mobster’s captivity.
I strummed the instrument and cringed. It was completely out of tune. I turned the pegs, then strummed again. That was better. After a few more adjustments, we could make music together.
I played a few chords, then paused. I could break the guitar. Ram it against one of the boxes to make the end of the neck spikey, and use that to stab the Adlers.
And if the neck wasn’t strong enough? If it didn’t break in the right places… What would I do then?
The door to the basement opened, and I froze in place. Ethan stepped down, easing himself down the stairs in careful deliberation. His eyes, as dark as onyx, defiance and anger always lurking behind them, kept their focus on me the entire way. The air around us filled with tension, making my mouth dry. Each step towards me was another moment lost. Another moment I could have used to escape.
He faced me. I looked up, meeting his ominous, charcoal eyes. His lips were flat, no expression holding them. His jaw angled.
“Are you hiding anything, Teagen?” he asked.
I scowled. “Please. Tell me. Where the hell would I hide something?”
He stepped closer. The heat from his body met mine, and I shrank. He hadn’t touched me yet and I was already cowering.
“There are plenty of ways to hide something,” he said. “Perhaps I need to do a strip search.”
I furrowed my brows. “You know I’m not hiding anything in there.”
“But how can I be sure?” He stroked the back of his fingers along my cheek, belittling me, making me feel small. “You’re more capable than you think.”
Energy circulated to the spot he had touched on my cheek. A primal urge ran through me, to spread my legs and let him check. Because despite my better judgment, I wanted his hand there, exploring me. Because at least it was better than this. Better than waiting for the end to come. Better than pretending like I could escape. Pretending like my escape wouldn’t put Dad in jeopardy.
I didn’t do anything. I kept still, holding the guitar in place against my body. His eyes searched me, full of desire and longing. Then his hands grazed over my hips.
It would be foolish to run, but it was more pathetic to stay. To let him do this.
