SLAUGHTER

by Tessier, Shantel

  “Morning.”

  She remains silent, and I finally pull my eyes from the emails I’m reading on my cell to look at her. She stares down at the table, her hair a disheveled mess, and hands placed in her lap. She doesn’t move. I don’t even see her chest rise in the black nightgown. The right strap hangs off her shoulder. She looks like a statue—gorgeous and breakable.

  I place my phone in the pocket inside my suit jacket and stand. Walking over to her, I reach out and run the pad of fingers up her forearm. She tenses, and I smile. “How did you sleep?” I ask.

  “You shouldn’t ask questions that you already know the answer to,” she answers softly.

  My smile grows. She’s referring to the cameras. Of course, I watched her again last night. She slept like shit, tossing and turning mostly. Every now and then, she would sit straight up and look around like she was lost. Then the moment she realized she was living a nightmare, she would lie back down and turn her back to the camera.

  My hand reaches her upper arm, and I gently pull her strap back onto her shoulder. Leaning over, I pull her hair back to expose her neck to me. I kiss the warm skin. “I’ll be home at five, and I want you in my study waiting for me. On your knees.”

  She slowly lifts her head, and those blue eyes I’ve missed all these years glare up at me. So much anger. Hate. With one look, I swear I can feel my body heating up as if she’s setting me on fire. “That won’t happen.”

  “Oh, it will, Bunny,” I assure her. “Either you’re waiting for me on your knees, or I punish you.”

  “The punishment would be me on my knees for you,” she snaps.

  I step back and let her think she’s won. That I am actually taking her seriously. Walking out of the dinning room, I spot Kayn in the hallway.

  “I’m ready when you are, sir ...”

  “Then let’s go.”

  PRESLEIGH

  Entering the bedroom, I look around for anything I can use. I can’t leave this room; that is too risky. There are men on the other side of my bedroom door. If I can escape from here, I may have a chance.

  I walk over to my bed and yank off the comforter and then both the black sheets. I run into my closet and shut the door. It’s the only room that doesn’t have a camera in it that I know of. I’ve never seen a red blinking light in it anyway. That has to be a good sign. I tie each end together and pull on them to make sure they are secure, though the odds of them staying tight aren’t all that great. My weight may pull them apart, and I may fall to my death. Knowing my luck, I would just break a leg, but I’ll take my chances.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the closet and over to the window, but of course, it’s locked. I look around for something to throw at it but come up empty. “Think,” I say to myself.

  Then my eyes fall on the high-back chair over in the corner. I fall to my knees before it and look at the legs. They’re big and wooden. Unscrewing one as quickly as I can, I hold it in my hands like a baseball bat and look at the window. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m not sure how long I have before they come after me, but my tracker is long gone. At least something good came out of cutting myself open. If I can just get to someone. Get them to listen or take me to the police. Then I can get back to New York. I can’t stay here. Not with him.

  I tighten my hands on the leg, take a deep breath, and close my eyes before I swing. All it does is bounce off the glass. I tighten my grip, widen my stance, and take a deep breath, then swing again.

  The glass shatters, and I have a moment of excitement before an alarm sounds.

  “Shit!”

  I run into the closet, grab the sheets, and wrap it around the other leg of the chair. It’s not gonna hold. The chair is going to move with my weight, but it doesn’t matter. I just need it to slow me down so I don’t hit the ground at full force. I throw it over the window and start to climb out just as a man I’ve never seen walks into my room. “She’s going out the window …”

  I loosen my grip and start falling. The wind whips my hair around, and my stomach’s up in my throat.

  Glancing up, I see the guy looking out of the window down at me. He grabs a hold of the sheet and yanks it. I let go, already committed to this extremely suicidal idea. My feet hit the ground, my knees buckle from the force, and I fall onto my back. The fall knocks the wind out of me, and I suck in a breath, rolling over onto my side. “Fuck!” I hiss, holding my side. Making my way onto shaky legs, I turn around to run when a fist hits me in the face. I’m knocked to my ass once again as dots form in my vision. I cover my face with my hand as tears instantly sting my eyes, and I cry out.

  “Fucking bitch!”

  My body shakes as the pain takes over, making my face throb and my tongue taste blood. Then I feel pressure on my chest, and I can’t breathe. My hands are ripped away from my face and pinned above my head.

  “You just don’t know when to give up.”

  I look up through water eyes to see Darrell straddling my chest. Another man kneels above my head, holding my arms down.

  I scream out in frustration while they hold my bruised and broken body down effortlessly.

  “Shut her up!” barks the man holding my arms.

  Darrell lifts a syringe and removes the cap with his teeth. “No!” I shout, not wanting them to drug me. I’m afraid of what they may do to me without Avery here.

  He grabs my chin roughly and shoves my head to the right, and then I feel the prick of the needle in my neck before my body starts to go numb. They both are still holding me down when my world goes black.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AVERY

  MY BROTHER AND I STAND in the middle of the warehouse discussing business when a cell rings.

  Kayn excuses himself to answer it. “What?” he barks out. He spins back around to face us, and I hold up my hand to my brother, quieting him.

  “What is it?” I demand.

  “We have a situation,” he answers, pocketing the phone.

  “What is it?” I snap, wanting him to get to the point.

  “It’s Presleigh. She ran.”

  “WHAT?”

  “Darrell stopped her …”

  “Fuck!”

  “Told you she would be a prob—”

  “Don’t fucking finish that sentence,” I bark at my brother, then look at Kayn. “Let’s go.”

  Twenty minutes later, I barge into her room to find her lying in her bed and Darrell standing in the corner. It feels like Deja vu. “Leave!”

  He obeys without question.

  I take a sip of my scotch that I had stopped by my study to grab. I go to sit down in the chair but notice it has a leg missing. Instead, I sit on the couch and wait for her to wake up. I was told that Darrell drugged her but with less than the normal dosage, so she should be waking up soon.

  So I wait.

  She fucking ran!

  I didn’t think she’d be that fucking stupid. Again!

  She just continues to prove me wrong. And that does not bode well for her.

  Thirty minutes later, she starts to stir.

  “Fuuuccckkkk.” She groans in pain.

  Darrell told me he hit her, and I’m not happy about that. Why hit her if he already had the drugs in his hands and her cornered? He and I need to have a talk later. After I’m done with her.

  She rolls over onto her back, covering her face with her hands.

  “You’re daring me to prove something to you, Bunny.”

  She sits up, and her dazed blue eyes meet mine, blinking a few times to no doubt try to clear her blurry vision. I’ve never been drugged with the stuff, but I know how strong it is.

  After a few long seconds, she looks away and swallows.

  “And I don’t like to be tested,” I say, swirling the scotch around in my glass.

  Her eyes find mine again, and I look at the bruise on her right cheek from Darrell’s fist. My hand tightens on the glass. Only I am allowed to touch her. I’ll remind him of that.

  Her jaw sharpe
ns. She’s pissed. Good! “Fuck you, Avery!”

  I place my glass down on the floor and stand. Then I’m walking over to her. “Remember how I told you not to run? That you would be punished …?”

  She throws off the covers and goes to jump out of bed, but I’m faster than she is and reach the bed before she can get out. I grab her hair and pull her onto her feet.

  “Avery!” She gasps out.

  “You’re gonna learn to keep that smartass mouth shut unless I’m fucking it,” I growl, and she cries out.

  I drag her out of the bedroom and down the winding staircase. Her legs can’t keep up with mine due to my fast pace and the drugs still lingering in her system. She trips, but I manage to keep her up with my hand still wrapped in her hair.

  She tries to fight me; her hands grip my arm, and her nails dig into my skin, cutting me, but I don’t let go. I’m too pissed that the fucking bitch almost got away.

  How the fuck would I have found her?

  I hadn’t put a new tracker in her yet. I’m just as pissed at myself as I am her. Thankfully, Darrell put a new one in while she was out this time.

  I continue to pull her through the house while she cries and tries to fight me. We pass Kayn and my brother in the foyer. Both men watch with emotionless stares.

  We turn the corner, and I unlock the door underneath the staircase. She sucks in a few breaths, and her body slumps against mine.

  The door opens, and I yank her inside. “You’re hurting me—”

  I cut her off, pulling her down another set of stairs, then shoving her forward into the dark room. She trips over her feet, falling onto her stomach. I hit the switch on the wall, and my cellar lights up.

  It’s freezing cold and smells of blood. No matter how many times it gets cleaned, the smell won’t go away. It’s as if all the souls of the men I’ve killed remain here.

  She scrambles forward on her hands and knees, trying to put some space between us. I allow it because she has nowhere to go in here. It’s literally a dungeon.

  When she decides to come to a stop, she spins around on her ass and looks up at me. Tears run down her face as she silently cries. Her hair a disheveled mess and her chest heaving with every breath. Her shirt pulled tight against her chest. She looks fucking perfect!

  My slave!

  “What … is this place?” she mumbles, eyes searching.

  It was once a wine cellar, but I had it gutted. Two thousand square feet. Enough room for me to do what I do best—torture.

  It’s just like my father’s.

  It has three jail cells to the left, lining the black wall. A silver table bolted down in the middle and one chair beside it. I also bolted the chair down just so it can’t move when I’m yanking out their teeth or cutting off their fingers.

  “This is where you belonged from the beginning.”

  “What?” She gasps, turning to face me. “Avery, no …”

  “I think you prefer to be chained to the wall.” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head frantically. “Left down here, alone. Only to be allowed one glass of water and two pieces of bread each day.”

  “Please don’t …”

  “I think I’ve been more than accommodating, Bunny. But if you want to run like a disobedient slave, then I will treat you like one.”

  For the first time since I took her, I hate the look of terror in her blue eyes as she looks up at me from the concrete floor. This is how Damon would treat her. This is exactly how she would look up at him. I’m supposed to be better. But I also can’t have her running from me. I honestly didn’t think she would give me this much trouble. I thought she’d lie down and take it.

  I was a fucking idiot!

  I walk over to the right and grab a chain that hangs from the wall. The weight heavy in my hands. “Do you want me to chain you to the wall?”

  “No! Please …”

  I take a step toward her, and she crawls backward until she’s pressed up against one of the cages that lines the wall. “Do you want to have to piss and shit in a bucket?” I yell. I may have never owned a sex slave, but my father taught me how to treat one—like they’re fucking nothing!

  “A-a-aver-r-ry.” She sobs.

  I storm over to her, and she doesn’t even bother trying to run from me. I lean down and grab her chin and make her look up at me. She whimpers. “You are testing my patience, Bunny!” I snap.

  “I’m sorry.” She sobs and closes her eyes tightly.

  “Look at me!”

  When she opens her eyes, I drop the chain and lift my now free hand to touch her wet cheek, and she flinches as if I’m going to hit her. “I don’t want to treat you like this, Bunny,” I say softly, and her body physically shakes. “I don’t want to cage you like an animal.” Lie, that’s why I brought her here in the first place. I knew what extremes I would have to go to, to keep her safe. She’s not safe from me, though. “But you’re not giving me any other choice.”

  “I’ll do better …”

  I sigh dramatically for effect. “I don’t think you can.”

  “Please,” she begs, and my cock hardens at how breathless she sounds. Her bloodshot eyes quickly look around the room the best she can since my hand still holds her chin in place. “I don’t want to stay down here,” she whispers once her eyes meet mine.

  “Are you going to be good?”

  “Yes.”

  I don’t want her down here either. I want her up in her room. “This is your last chance, Bunny. Disobey me again and you will find yourself down here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fuck!

  The single word makes me want to rip her clothes off and fuck her right here. But that’s not part of the plan. On the way home, I decided what I was going to do with her, and it was never to put her in the cellar. I mean, the threat has been made. If she fucks up again, this is where she will find herself. But I wanted her punishment to be more of a mindfuck rather than physical.

  “Go back up to your room,” I order, letting her go and standing to my full height.

  She slowly stands and then walks out without looking back at me.

  Fuck, I hate that she almost outsmarted me. Again!

  I run a hand through my hair, frustrated.

  “Avery?”

  “What?” I snap, turning to see my brother has now joined me. “Go home, Tristan.”

  I know why he’s here. He thinks I’m going to fold and go easy on her. And that he can take over when that happens. If he lays one hand on her, I’ll kill him.

  He walks into the cellar, pocketing his cell. “I made the call. We’re on.”

  “We?”

  He nods. “The more eyes, the better.”

  I can’t disagree with him there.

  He just stands there as he looks around the empty cellar. When his eyes meet mine, I can see the disappointment in them. “Not making her stay down here?”

  “What I do with her is none of your business,” I growl defensively.

  His eyes narrow on me. “Look. I’m putting my ass on the line for not only you but for her as well.”

  “I never asked for your help!” He lets out a long sigh as if he’s tired of this fucking game already. I’m just getting started.

  “Eventually, she is going to succeed.”

  I shake my head. “She will not …”

  “We both know she will. Quit denying it.” My jaw tightens. “What are you gonna do when he ends up with her?”

  “I won’t allow that to happen,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “You can’t control her. She’s been here two days and already proven it twice.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “You can’t guarantee that.” He holds his hands out wide. “Unless you put her down here—”

  “Drop it, Tristan!” I interrupt him. “I have a plan. Either fucking stick to it or get the fuck out!” Then I walk past him, exiting the cellar, running up the steps and then making my way up the winding
staircase to the second floor.

  I open her bedroom door without knocking to find her sitting on her bed. Her back against the headboard and legs up to her chest.

  “Come here,” I order.

  I wait impatiently as she slowly crawls out of bed. She has quit crying, but her cheeks are still wet, and I know the drugs are still in her system. She walks over and stands before me. I look down at her. “Get undressed.”

  Her shoulders slump at my command, but her fingers remove her shirt and jeans. She stands before me dressed in a black bra and matching thong.

  “All of it.”

  She unclasps her bra, and it falls to the floor before my feet. Then she slowly pushes her thong down her legs, showing me her smooth pussy.

  I look over her slowly, allowing my eyes to take in every inch of her. She looks better than she did yesterday. Her color is back, and her face is healing. Well, except for the new mark Darrell gave her earlier.

  She reaches up, crossing her arms over her chest, and bows her head. She’s nervous. Good, I want her to feel something. Fear is a very strong motivator. She needs to be terrified of me. Because if she were to get away, and Damon got a hold of her …

  “Turn around and get down on your knees.”

  Her head snaps up, and her blue eyes meet mine, wide with fear. “Avery …”

  “I gave you an order, Bunny. I won’t repeat it.”

  She very slowly turns around and goes down to her knees, her hands resting on her thighs.

  I grab my scotch from the floor and take a drink. This is her punishment. The anticipation. She never was good at waiting. “Place your ass up in the air and your cheek on the floor.”

  “Please, Avery …”

  “What did I say about begging?”

  I hear her sniff, and I take another drink. Fuck, I want to toss her on the bed and fuck her tight little pussy. Show her that she has been and always will be mine. But she ran. She made her choice, so now she must face the consequences.

  She bends over, placing her palms flat on the hardwood floor, and she lowers her right cheek as well. Her ass and pussy are up in the air.

  “Spread your legs, Bunny.” My voice comes out rough, and I grip my glass tighter as my cock hardens. Fuck, this woman is incredible.