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My plea hung in the air, chilling it further. The terror sunk into my bones. Froze the blood in my veins.
Joyce flinched beside him but didn’t move to help me. He dropped his hand to my knee, the knife a silent threat pressing into my jeans. “Oh, sweetheart, you think that means I’m letting you go?”
His chuckle was like a physical force, wrapping around my throat and squeezing the oxygen from my lungs. “I can sell a baby for so much money. More than I could ever get for you. You just made yourself extremely valuable.”
He must have seen the disgust and confusion in my expression, because he smirked and continued. “Babies are easier to use since they don’t know anything else.”
Bile rushed up my esophagus. I choked on it. Forcing him to stand and step back as I retched. The idea of someone like him being near a baby made me physically sick. I fought not to throw up because the only thing worse than being tied to this chair was having vomit in my lap.
He kept smiling as he moved closer again, like my reaction meant nothing. “Let’s see the merchandise.”
I was powerless to stop him as he ran the tip of the blade along the sleeves of my shirt. I couldn’t move, or I risked it cutting my skin. Cool air hit my flesh as he tore down the middle. The fabric fell in tatters off my arms but clung to my back, where I was pinned to the chair.
My cheeks colored as not only my body, but my scars were put on display. The slashes and cuts. The burns and marks he’d left behind.
“Oh, child, who did this?” Joyce’s fake endearment had anger rising in me.
“Your son did this.” I ground out through my clenched teeth.
Her spine snapped straight as she glared. “Mitchell would never.”
“I knew it!” She went right to him, even though I was married to two of her sons. “You knew!” I always thought she did.
Her eyes burned with the fury I deserved to feel, not her. “Sometimes a wife needs to be reminded of her place.” I didn’t know who she was trying to explain it to, me or this man. “I’m sure there was a good reason for each of those.”
“There was no reason!” Rage clawed at my chest, clearing the last of the fog from the drugs. “I did nothing!”
“This is not the quality I expected.” The man said to my mother-in-law like my scars offended him.
His dismissive tone. His disapproval, like I was damaged goods, had a fresh wave of anger surging up in me. I pooled what little spit I had in my mouth and shot it at him. A wad of saliva hit his brow. Satisfaction made me smile as the liquid slid down his face and over his mouth before he could wipe it away.
“Bitch.” He jumped up. I laughed, but the sound was cut off as he moved quick. His hand connected with my cheek before I had time to brace.
I swallowed the whimper, trying to escape my throat. He didn’t deserve to hear my cry. To watch me break.
My teeth jangled, cutting into my skin. Instead of swallowing the blood, I spit it at his feet. “You’ll have to do better than that. As you can see, I’m no stranger to the touch of angry men.”
This wasn’t me. The girl who yelled back. Who fought. I hid. Pretended everything was okay. Stayed.
But the person tied to this chair wasn’t the wife of Mitchell. She wasn’t weak. This woman was Vander’s wife.
I was strong. Smart. Resilient. All the things he said I was. The things he made me believe.
I wouldn’t hide. I wouldn’t cower. I had something to go home to. Something to protect.
I fought for my life. For him. For our baby.
The man’s eyes narrowed. His fists opened and closed at his side. “You have no idea what a man like me could do.”
I pushed out a strangled laugh. It was worth the annoyance in his expression. “What are you going to do? Hit me again? I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been hit. Burn me? Been there. Cut me? I’ve already got the scars.” Joyce stood by silently; I turned my gaze to her. “And they hurt a lot worse when they come from a man you thought you loved.”
Her lips rolled together; that was the only sign that she even heard me. She didn’t care about my pain.
“I’m not sure exactly what this is, but I can guess.” I crossed my legs because she’d left them untied. If it weren’t for my bound arms, I would’ve looked casual. “She’s going to sell me to you. Or maybe there’s no money, and I’m revenge. I don’t know.” I shrugged like fear wasn’t rushing through my veins.
“But what I can tell you is, I won’t go easy or quiet. I’ll be a pain in your ass every day until my husband comes for me. And my husband will come. Then you’ll be in real trouble. I assume I don’t need to tell you what he’ll do.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as we stared at each other. My insides trembled. I was desperate, not brave. I’d say anything to get rid of him. But what I said was the truth.
