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I don’t want to know what he sees. I don’t want to know what part of my life this woman had saved in that small blue icon because I know what she did to me.
All dolls are soldiers. And they believed that all soldiers shouldn’t have a future or a family. So, the moment we turned seventeen, we’re stripped of our womanhood. Left to heal without painkillers, without any source of comfort.
“You’re ready?” Hunter questions, rising as he gets Monroe and drags her legs toward the foot of the bed and proceeds in tying her down.
“Now, Dr. Monroe, since you took everything from me, I’ll be taking the same from you.” I break open the crystal lid and pour the poison directly into her eyelid, as if I’m administering eyedrops. The screech that pierces the room is evidence that it’s doing its job. Once again, I grab my knife and allow the blade to slice through her nightgown, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties.
“Please, please, I can help you,” she begs.
My hand presses the sleek silver blade to her abdomen, watching the pretty crimson liquid that seeps from the incision. My movements are slow, ensuring that she feels as much of the agony as I did. Along the wrinkled, porcelain flesh, I make the cut just below her navel. Blood drains from her body as she screeches. I’m splattered in red. A pattern I wear with pride as I watch her convulse wildly.
“What the fuck is going on here?” The deep, booming voice from the door stops my hand in midair, and my heart leaps into my throat.
When I snap my gaze to the entrance of the bedroom, I’m finally face-to-face with the man who stole my heart. The man I love with all that I am. The man who left me to suffer in hell.
Archer King.
Chapter 12
Archer
“What the fuck is going on here?” I bellow. A woman with dark tendrils of hair almost as black as the night itself turns to me with shock on her face. Something had been nagging at me all night, an overwhelming need to check on all the doctors. Leaving Rebekah asleep in my bed with Liam on guard, I dressed quietly and visited Dr. Chamberlain first. He was sound asleep in his bed, lax with his security as usual. I won’t let these arrogant pricks of doctors send my guards away again. I called them back and stationed them outside his room. If he wants to take it up with me in the morning when he wakes, then we will have a showdown. One I will not lose. Things are changing around here, and I won’t let anyone else die on my watch.
Dr. Monroe was next, and the second I set foot on her property, I got a sense of unease. Silently, I made my way through the house. Some people would think I’m insane walking into the unknown without so much as a gun on me, but I don’t need one. I’m a trained soldier. My hands and my brain are my weapons. They are what I use to kill, not metal and gunpowder. A scream of torture greeted me. The door was left open, and I watched for a few moments as the figure of a woman carved up Dr. Monroe. I was mesmerized by her grace and skill in a task so repulsive many a person would vomit the contents of their stomach onto the floor. Not this woman though; she’s tainted by the devil. Blood covers her and runs onto the floor like a spilled bottle of claret, but she didn’t falter in her task until I called.
A thick-set man who was sitting on the bed jumps to his feet, letting the laptop he was holding crash to the floor. He bears down on me quickly, ready for a fight. I dodge him when he throws the first punch, and his fist pounds into the wall next to me.
“You don’t want to fight me,” I offer the words of advice, but I can see they fall on deaf ears when he comes at me again. This time he lands a punch on my square jaw, but I don’t feel it. That’s how I’m trained. Pain is irrelevant to me. It’s not part of the consciousness of my brain. I crack my jaw and hit back at him with three sharp, shooting jabs to his face. He tries to bring his left arm up in protection, but I’m too quick. He stumbles back, reeling from the possibly broken nose I’ve given him, and slumps down onto the floor to catch his breath. He needs time to stop seeing the stars no doubt circling his head. He’s no danger to me for the moment, the person holding the knife is the one who has my interest now.
