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“It’s yours, Red. Every day I have left is yours.” Shutting his eyes, he tips back the bottle of vodka and guzzles deeply.
I hurry back to the kitchen counter, desperate to put space between us. I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid for him. He’s a vulnerable soul, especially when he’s propositioning me, and I don’t want to hurt him more than I already have. Every rejection cuts him, makes him more withdrawn.
God, I just need to keep him healthy and get him out of this place. Then I’ll get him some real help. Help and happiness and a long, fulfilling life of freedom.
If only.
Plonking the can of peaches on the counter, I contemplate the wisdom in opening it. This is our reality. A glimpse of the coming months. Every day we stay alive will be another day of hard choices.
I’m not made for this.
But I don’t have a fucking choice, do I?
The stillness behind me shatters beneath the tread of approaching steps. I brace my hands on the counter and try to form the right words to shut down Wolf. Again.
Tiny hairs lift on my nape, and a shiver races across my scalp.
No.
Not Wolf.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in here all by herself?” Denver’s voice tunnels through me like a bolt of ice. Too close. Only inches away.
The whine of the pipes in the wall tells me Kody is in the shower. Leo is still outside. Neither of them will hear me scream.
Wolf can hear from the pantry, yet he hasn’t come out.
Probably drunk.
My gaze swings to the block of knives at the other end of the counter. Too far.
I lunge for it anyway, and Denver catches me, traps me against the sink with his hips against mine and something sharp angled at my neck.
At the lower edge of my periphery, I see a syringe in his hand, his thumb hovering over the plunger.
“Have you bled?” His question, hot on my cheek, squeezes the air from my lungs.
“Wh—what?”
“Have you bled?” His other hand flattens over my womb, burning like the fires of hell.
“No.”
Not a lie. I haven’t bled since I lost my baby. Stress, sudden weight loss, the miscarriage—plenty of reasons for not menstruating. But pregnancy isn’t one of them.
I won’t tell him that. If he believes I’m with child, he won’t kill me. It might be the only thing that keeps me alive.
“If you drug me while I’m pregnant—”
“Didn’t hurt the last pregnancy.”
“You don’t know that. Never got a chance to find out. Is it worth the risk?”
“Yes, little girl. I have all winter to put another baby in you.”
Bile hits the back of my throat.
“You can do this the obedient way or the unconscious way.” Keeping the hypodermic needle at my neck, he spins me to face him and presses his hard intent against my belly. “If you scream, the lights go out.”
Panicked, I open my mouth to do just that.
Until something moves behind him. It takes all my concentration to hold still, keep my eyes fixed on Denver’s chin, and not look over his shoulder.
In a soundless blur, a steel blade appears beside Denver’s face, the lethal point grazing his cheekbone.
Arctic blue eyes come into view, glittering over a crazed smile.
“Whatcha doing with my girl, old boy?” Wolf nuzzles Denver’s hair so intimately it makes my insides roil.
“Your girl?” Denver smiles, loose and relaxed.
His calmness unsettles me to the pit of my being, because I know that twisted charm means terrible things to come.
“If she’s your girl,” he says, “why aren’t you fucking her?”
“Unlike you, unwilling bodies don’t do it for me.”
“If the body’s unconscious, it isn’t unwilling.” Denver slides the needle down my throat, quickening my breath. “Leo’s had his dick in her.” He inhales deeply. “I can smell it.”
“Creepy.” Wolf’s eyes glitter with amusement.
“I’ll share her with you. You’ll never know true pleasure until you’re buried balls deep in the sweet flesh of her cunt.”
“I believe you.” Wolf edges closer to Denver’s back, causing Denver’s hips to grind against mine.
“Wolf.” I grit my teeth, my body frozen beneath the threat of the syringe. “What are you doing?”
“Let me think, sugarplum.” Tilting his mouth to Denver’s jaw, he nibbles the graying stubble there. “I wonder how it would feel to sink into his body while he’s impaled in yours. Ever taken it in the ass, Daddy?” He snakes his free hand between Denver’s hips and mine and strokes the length of Denver’s erection. “I think you like this idea, you dirty old fuck.”
“Wolf, no.” Tears brim my eyes. “Please, don’t do this.”
Impossible to know what he’s thinking. This could be an act, some insane ploy to disarm Denver. Or he could be so fed up that he’d rather be my tormentor than my protector.
The pipes continue to groan upstairs. My gaze bounces to the front entryway, willing Leo to walk through it.
