Page 111 of Locked in Wonderland

Surely, he’d unlock the gag before he let me suffocate.

Wouldn’t he?

I wasn’t nearly as certain as I wanted to be. And Nico had already gone inside.

Stop expecting Nico to rescue you. He doesn’t give a damn. He already got what he wanted from you.

I was still trying to breathe through the panic when the second blow sent me crashing to my knees. At least it cleared my nose enough that I could breathe again. The panic receded slightly. The same couldn’t be said for my anger.

“Bad dog.”

My cheek burned where his ring had caught me again. Blood dripped onto the gravel beneath me. From my nose? My cheek? Both? I considered my options. Get back up and get hit again. Or stay where I was. Who was I trying to kid? There was only one sensible option.

Kellan stood over me with his hands on his hips, manic anticipation glittering in his eyes. The security guard lingered nearby, his relaxed posture making it painfully obvious he’d seen scenes like this before.

That settled it. I lowered one hand onto the gravel, then the other. Had I ever crawled on all fours before? Maybe during P.E. in primary school. I certainly didn’t remember a teacher watching me the way Kellan was now, practically willing me to make a mistake.

Humiliation set my cheeks on fire as I crawled down the drive, Kellan falling into step behind me.

“You need to train them early,” he said to someone, presumably the security guard. I wasn’t about to turn around to see who, for fear of earning a boot to the ribs. “Show them who’s boss.”

Whatever the other man thought, he kept it to himself.

By the time I reached the door, both my hands and knees felt bruised. Thankfully, someone had left it open, sparing me the humiliation of figuring out how to open it without standing and incurring Kellan’s wrath.

An ornate reception room greeted me beyond the threshold. Paintings covered the walls, each more disturbing than the last. Grinning rabbits with needle teeth. Masked figures dancing beneath dead trees. Pale children with faces too long and eyes too large.

The stuff of nightmares. Like I needed an extra one beyond the reality I was living.

“Left,” Kellan ordered.

I obeyed, crawling into a large living room already occupied by the rest of the Harts.

And Nico.

He had his back to me, but a large mirror in front of him reflected his face. The mirror betrayed him, his eyes finding mine for the briefest moment before he tore them away.

Yeah. Do you see me bleeding, you bastard?

I shuffled farther into the room, hoping I’d leave blood on their cream carpet. Unfortunately, the worst of the bleeding seemed to be over. Even a sharp shake of my head produced no fresh drops. I’d have to settle for depositing the specks of gravel clinging to my palms.

Was this what my life had already become? Would my only pleasure be minor acts of rebellion? It was a bleak future to contemplate.

Henry poured whiskey into two crystal tumblers, handed one to Queenie, then took a sip from the other. “Do you want one, Kellan?”

No offer to Nico. I filed the observation away, telling myself it might prove useful someday. More likely, it was just a way of keeping myself sane. How long would that last?

Kellan shook his head. “No. I’m going to try my new dog out.”

Try me out.

I searched desperately for another meaning beyond the obvious, but failed miserably.

“Of course, darling,” Queenie said casually, as if her son had announced he was choosing a new paint color rather than raping his new captive. “Don’t forget we have a dinner party at eight.” She lifted a slender wrist to check the time. “That only gives you a couple of hours. And no dogs at the table tonight.”

Kellan bent and gripped the back of my neck, revulsion crawling beneath my skin at his touch. “Come on, doggie.”

I couldn’t move. It was one thing to understand your fate, but something else entirely to force yourself to walk—or crawl—willingly toward it. How did people cope when they had to climb the steps to the executioner’s block?