Page 64 of Fury

“Has he hurt you?” I whisper.

She holds up her hand, which has a bandage on it. “He tries. I know he won’t kill me, though. He’s determined to use me, and that only gives me the strength I need to endure his torture. He won’t mark my body, or ruin my face, not when he thinks I’ll be the star of his pathetic little show.”

She is incredible.

Everything about her.

It takes a certain level of strength to endure what he is dishing out.

“Have you tried to escape?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I will. He’s not keeping me here; he just doesn’t know it yet. I have a career, people who will be looking for me. There is no way he’ll ever get away with making me perform.”

“Does he think he can break you enough for them to believe you went with him willingly?”

She shrugs. “I think that’s the plan. He’ll get a rude awakening. I’ve dealt with bigger monsters than him.”

That is a terrifying thought.

Because from what I can see, Marek is the worst of them.

She’s so confident that he won’t hurt her too badly because he wants what she has to offer, and I hope she’s right.

“You really don’t think he’ll hurt you?”

“Oh,” she laughs, bitterly, “he’ll hurt me, he just won’t do it badly enough to ruin what he thinks I can bring to his little show.”

“I can’t believe people come to watch this,” I murmur, rubbing my upper arms.

“They don’t know what he’s doing behind closed doors. Have you seen one of his shows? They’re breathtaking. Utterly awe inspiring. He is charming and attractive; he captures the audience in a way that is impressive. Marek is smart, and he’s powerful. He has some big fish behind him to ensure he doesn’t get busted.”

Well.

She’s certainly paid attention.

“I’ve heard of his,” I admit. “But I’ve never seen it. I certainly didn’t know this was going on. Do you think he’s going to let me know, now I’ve seen it?”

“Even if you told someone,” she says with a shrug, “nobody would ever get close enough to do anything. He would have you killed long before that happened.”

I shudder at the thought.

She gives me a small smile.

“Welcome to hell.”

I DON’T KNOW WHEN I fall asleep, but somehow, I do.

I’m woken to the sound of voices, and I stir from my uncomfortable spot on the ground, the grass itching my skin. Groaning, I roll to my side and see Ellie sitting up in her cage, staring up at someone. I focus my gaze, but don’t sit up. Instead, I watch as Marek looks over her, his eyes focused on hers, the two of them locked in some kind of battle.

“I can starve you, and the perfect dancer’s body will be forever tarnished,” he murmurs, his voice a low hum in the darkness.

His accent is strong, and if you closed your eyes and listened to him speak, you would be swept away with fantasy of that voice speaking to you as he fucked you. The problem is, when you open your eyes, you see the stone-cold glare he offers, and very quickly his stunning looks make your stomach turn with fear and confusion. He has the ability to cripple you with one, single glance.

“Go ahead,” Ellie responds, her voice strong and unwavering. “I’ll be no good to you if I’m too thin. Nobody will pay to watch that. Try harder, Master.”

Master?

He bares his teeth at her, a silent warning.

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