Page 134 of Mad Love

Months ago, I’d been awed by the beauty of this house. By the lush grounds that I’d actually spent a summer helping to garden. The rows of flowers I had planted then were still thriving…unlike me.

They would last long after I’d gone, a silent reminder that I’d been here.

As the front doors loomed closer, I remembered the last time I’d been hauled to this house, propped up between guards sent to retrieve me. Maybe I should’ve just given Gary what he’d wanted then. Been compliant and docile.

The memory of Ryan’s electric blue eyes surfaced, and I knew it never would have worked.

Since the day Madelaine and I had switched places, I’d been on a collision course with Ryan Cain. We were destined to end up together, our relationship forged by chaos and violence and more love than I’d ever thought possible.

As much as I was grateful he was hours away from Gary, I wished he was with me. Instead, I pretended he was walking right beside me.

Don’t let them see you scared, baby.

I lifted my chin as we walked up the steps to the house and went inside. The doors closed behind me, the sound echoing in the vast space. I looked around at the place that had been my sister’s home.

No, her prison. Then mine.

A bitter smile twisted my lips, because I knew Ryan would raze it to the ground before the night was over. Sure, Gary might kill me, but if I could make him drag it out, Ryan would catch him.

An idea snagged on my mind.

Two hours.

Less than that now, and Ryan would be here.

Could I hold on for two hours? Survive whatever Gary had planned?

For Ryan, I would sure as hell try.

“He’s waiting in the ballroom,” the man behind me huffed, shoving my shoulder.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, not needing to give them any added incentive to hurt me. But seriously, the ballroom? It never stopped sounding utterly ridiculous.

The room was situated just off the foyer, with gleaming crystal and gold chandeliers and gilded crown molding around the vaulted ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the Los Angeles skyline, making it appear that the city was at our feet.

Fucking pretentious asshole.

In the middle of the vast space, Bex was tied to a chair. Unlike her picture, she was alert now. Her hazel eyes were filled with a mix of terror and fury, and they widened when she saw me. She struggled against her restraints, her cries muffled by the gag in her mouth.

Without thinking, I rushed forward only to be jerked back by the asshole who seemed to think my ponytail was a set of reins. The momentum dropped me onto my ass, my hands and tailbone absorbing most of the jarring impact with the gleaming hardwood floor.

Gary’s biting laugh echoed off the walls, crawling across my skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. He stepped out of the shadows like a damn villain in a movie.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he greeted with absolutely zero affection.

I glanced around the space and shrugged. “I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen trailers nicer than this.”

He hissed and jerked his chin at the man behind me. Again, I was lifted up by my hair, my eyes watering as pain splintered along my scalp.

“Jesus,” I seethed, my chest heaving as I got my feet under me. I glared at the jerk. “It’s not a handle, you know.”

The man’s plain brown eyes flicked over my shoulder, likely for approval. Next thing I knew, I was back on the ground, and my cheek was on fire from where he’d backhanded me.

Oh, shit, ow.

That hurt like a bitch.

I wished I was wearing a watch so I could track the time. Maybe seeing the two hours ticking away would’ve helped me endure whatever came next.

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