Page 238 of Safe Word

‘If I were facing the devil,’ he said, ‘I’d want Gianna on my right, and Francesca on my left.’

The way he said it chilled me – not bravado, just preparation. Just fucking routine. This family didn’t panic – they mobilised.

Gianna returned first, carrying a heavy backpack in her hands. From it, she pulled—

A goddamn Desert Eagle – which definitely should not exist on this continent. Even its sheen screamed illegal.

She checked the clip like she’d done it more times than she could count, then met my eyes.

I would’ve been shocked, but I was way beyond that. Worry sat like glass in my throat.

And yet—

As I looked around, at this strange, brutal little army forming in a house filled with framed family photos—

One thing rang loud and clear through the horror: I wasn’t walking into this alone.

And that tiny spark of hope that I’d had a beef with so often in my past perked its head up.

But the beast in me – the one that still had its claws deep in Paula’s flesh – preferred privacy.

That was okay. I was going to maul him with or without the audience.

Cold.

It lived in the floor, in my skin, creeping up through my marrow.

Then the weight – not on me, but from me. My arms were suspended, sockets aching, something sharp pressing into the soft flesh of my wrists. A drip echoed somewhere, steady as a clock, each sound pulling me closer to waking.

My heels weren’t touching anything solid even if my toes were, just barely. Sliding and scraping – failing to find purchase.

And then—

Breath.

Hot. Slick where it dragged across my skin.

My mind struggled to surface. My thoughts were sluggish, as if clawing through syrup. A high-pitched whine whirred in my ears. The inside of my skull pulsed, and my stomach roiled with sickness.

It triggered memories – of when he used to drug me to get his way.

Something was at my neck.

The sensation was soft. Wet.

Revulsion hit a split second later – he was fucking licking me!

My entire body recoiled on instinct, but the chains above clanked tight and held. My wrists screamed.

‘Easy now.’ His voice.

No. No, no—

The haze in my vision warped into shape. Darkness, mostly. A ceiling of concrete ribs stretched overhead. Beams. Cables. An exposed bulb swung somewhere in the distance, casting shadows like broken teeth.

I was hanging. Naked except for my underwear. Arms pulled high above me. Ankles bound. One chain. Two. The floor beneath was bare, slick with damp and something that smelled like rust and rain.

‘You’ve always had such pretty skin,’ Travis murmured, voice thick with something familiar that cloyed in my stomach until I nearly hurled.