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Unless someone miraculously gave birth to an eleven-year-old girl, Seth had made sure no one would know where she came from. I was going to find out what he was hiding. When all was said and done, I would know all her secrets. Including who crocheted their fucking initials into her flesh.
Willow was toxic to a man like me, but it was too late to change anything now. I had to have her. I was going to keep her. I needed to break her. Then I could put her back together again. If the demons in my life decided to be nice, she wouldn’t end up like the last girl. I hadn’t wanted to kill her either.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I woke up feeling like I had a hangover. My body ached, my head throbbed, and my fucking throat felt raw.
Blinking through blurry sunlight, it took my eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, the memory of the previous night hit me like a ton of bricks. That sonofabitch choked me!
Pierce was nowhere to be seen, but I knew I was in his room. It smelled like him and had the same masculine look as his office, done up in deep grays and black.
A dark leather love seat was at the end of the black iron canopy bed, and there was a pair of glass doors leading to an outside balcony. Why did he bring me here?
I was naked, but that was the least of my problems. And besides, he’d already seen everything I had to offer. Glancing around the room, I didn’t see my dress anywhere, but there was an ivory robe hung at the end of the bed.
Don’t panic, don’t panic. This mantra played repetitively in my head as I launched myself out of his bed. I slipped the short silk robe on and securely tied the sash around my middle. Having no idea who was in the house or where Pierce was, I headed for the door, surprised when I found it wasn’t locked. My bare feet padded across the marble floor as I jogged out of the bedroom. It was quiet, way too quiet for anyone to be around
“Pierce?” There wasn’t an answer, confirming my suspicions that I was alone in the house.
But someone had brewed a fresh pot of coffee and set out fruit for breakfast. I jogged to the front door and peered out. The whole house was bathed in warm sunlight and surrounded by tall trees. It was all I could see.
I gripped the doorknob, pulled and twisted, but the door didn’t budge. Pressing my face to the glass, I saw a digital code box flashing green off to the right. Some high-tech piece of equipment.
Running through the house, I found the back door, the windows, and even the patio door off the basement were all sealed tight. A sob welled up in my chest. I swallowed it down and fought to keep a clear head. Dashing back upstairs, I went into Pierce’s bedroom and tried the balcony door. Warm air flooded in as it swung open.
My feeling of relief was instantly trumped; I was up way too high. There was no way I could climb down or jump without breaking bones. I debated screaming at the top of my lungs, but that wouldn’t do me much good. Pierce’s house was smack dab in the center of the woods. Birds chirped and flew over the treetops, oblivious to the girl losing her shit below.
Back inside, I searched high and low for a phone, a weapon, anything that could help me. There was nothing. The only cutlery in the drawers was plastic, and the phones had all been removed.
It didn’t look or feel like anyone lived here. No extra shoes sat by the front door, and not a single picture hung on the charcoal-colored walls. The main area was an open concept; I could see two sofas and a plush chair arranged around an unlit fireplace.
A chef’s kitchen was on the other side of the room with a breakfast bar serving as a divider. The house was beautiful. It had dark flooring, high ceilings, and unique abstract light fixtures.
It just felt so empty, almost as if someone had taken the time to construct it and then forgot about it.
This wasn’t a home, it was a tomb, and I was trapped inside of it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I held my composure, fighting against the urge to smile. Jax cleared his throat and kept his hand intertwined with Abigail’s, serving as her source of comfort. I was glad to see I wasn’t the only asshole in the family. This bastard was going to use a fake tragedy to get his dick wet.
Seth paced around, barking orders and demanding answers.
He wanted to know who had taken his baby girl.
While it would have overwhelmed with joy to announce it was me, and that she was now mine before planting a bullet in his head, I loved watching him fall apart. Killing him would be easy, and that was the only reason he was still alive.
