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Henri glanced at me, his trousers tented from sick and twisted lust. “If the police are on their way, I should let her go. Might be best for everyone if—”
“She’s coming,” Victor snapped. “She’s mine. Bought and paid for.” Grinning, he added, “You can come too, Henri. You can finish what you started when we land. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Seven
………………………….
Henri
I’M GOING TO LOSE MY ever-loving mind.
No, not just my mind.
My soul.
My heavily-tattered, black-riddled soul would soon be nothing more than shreds of humanity, torn apart from the beast’s claws inside me.
“Fair skies tonight, sir,” the captain smiled from where he stood at the top of the private plane. “We aim to have you touching down by four forty-five. Just in time for dawn.”
I glanced at my antique Casio watch my mother had gifted me for my thirteenth birthday—one of the few things she’d given me. Basic and ancient analog, with no fancy pedometers or heart rate monitors. I didn’t need a watch to tell me my heart was sick and skipping…I felt it thank you very much.
The hands showed 1:30 a.m.
Three hours?
We’d be flying for three hours?
Damn, a thousand islands existed in the Atlantic Ocean with that sort of travel time. Some known. Some not. Some private. Some full of partying tourists.
Where the hell is his estate, and how am I supposed to let Q know that Victor has radio-scrambling technology?
I smoothed down my charcoal blazer and ran my fingers over the concealed weapon inside the lining. I couldn’t risk bringing a gun—no matter how small—especially after the pat down I’d had before getting onto the plane, but I had spent hours last week, unpicking the silk lining and inserting a wickedly sharp switchblade.
Ily glanced at me as I fingered the hidden knife. Her eyes narrowed; she shifted in the cream leather airplane seat. “I’ll kill you for this,” she whispered, shooting a look at Victor, who spoke a few words to the captain. Roland didn’t give a shit about us as he tucked into a plate of syrup-drowning pancakes across the aisle. The stunning blonde air hostess had delivered the meal to him the moment we’d climbed on board, almost as if there was an app to order a midnight snack while travelling to ‘rapist island’.
“I’m the only thing protecting you from them,” I whispered back, careful not to raise my voice. “I suggest you don’t kill me just yet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who almost took me against my will. The guy who kidnapped me. The guy who—”
“Who’s doing his very fucking best to stay human.” I folded toward her, pressing my mouth to her ear. “I’m the only friend you have, Ily, so I wouldn’t piss me off if I were you.”
“Friend?” She shoved me away. “You had your fingers inside me when I hadn’t said yes. You were seconds away from raping me. That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy.” Her chin tipped up. “I despise you in a way I’ve never despised anyone. I hate you. I curse you. And one day, I will make you pay.”
I didn’t bother telling her that ‘one day’ was today.
Tonight.
She was already making me pay just by existing.
I’d been prepared to do all kinds of heinous things. Fuck whoever I needed to fuck. Play the part I needed to play to buy myself a ticket to the worst kind of purgatory, but I hadn’t planned on bringing someone down with me.
I figured if I ever earned an invite, I’d screw slaves already broken, biding my time until Q arrived to slaughter the men imprisoning them. I would’ve kept a clear conscience because I’d be just another bastard using a slave already shattered beyond repair.
But that was before.
Before this girl.
Before this terrible, unfortunate girl who made lust slash through my veins and blood turn black with urges.
