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I gulp, allowing him to see the fear his words have summoned. “Whatever you want.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied by my answer. Preston slides off the bed to retrieve the gun, placing it behind his back again.
“Don’t get any funny ideas while I untie those ropes. If you go for the gun again, I’ll fuck your pussy with the barrel while my dick is up your ass.”
Jesus-fucking-Christ, this man is disturbed. Well and truly disturbed.
I hold my breath when he comes closer and reaches over me to begin the process of unknotting the restraints. Once my hands are free, I instinctively rub my wrists, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Get up.” Preston makes a come hither motion with one hand while he uses the other to point the gun at me. “Let’s get this over with.”
I climb off the bed and slowly walk toward Preston with my hands raised in surrender. I tell myself to ignore the look he gives me as he eyes my bare legs, paying particular attention to the apex of my thighs.
“Good girl.”
When I join him where he’s standing over my unconscious father, he kicks Charles in the ribs, causing him to jolt awake. Preston flips the beaten man over with the toe of his tacky boat shoe, so he’s on his back.
I look between my father, and the gun Preston has pointed at him. “What do I do? I’ve never shot a gun before.”
His lips turn up in the corner. “Come here, sweet Jasmine. I’ll show you what to do.”
I tentatively take a few steps closer, gasping in surprise as he grabs my arm, pulling me into him. With my back at Preston’s front, he wraps his arms around me from behind and nuzzles his nose into my hair.
“Mmm... you smell sweet too. I can’t wait to get a taste of your pussy.” Bile churns in my gut when he presses his hard-on into my lower back. Preston takes my arms, guiding them into position. He wraps his hands over mine as he curls my index finger over the trigger of the gun. “Now, I’m going to slide the safety off, just like this.” He pauses for effect before doing just that. “Then we’re going to aim for that bullseye right in the middle of his forehead.” He lowers the gun until it’s pointing at my father’s head. “Wake up, Charles! You don’t want to miss this.”
My father’s eyes open slightly, immediately honing in on me. My breath stutters when I see the resignation in his gaze—the hopelessness. No matter how much I hate this man, I don’t want to actually kill him. I don’t want that on my conscience. Besides, I’d much rather see him rot in a jail cell for the rest of his life.
“Any final words you’d like to say to your daughter?” Preston taunts. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I-I’m s-sorry, Jasmine,” Charles chokes out. “For... every... thing.”
Tears start pouring out of my eyes with no warning. Preston has to catch me when my knees buckle.
He chuckles. “Oh, don’t back out on me now, Jasmine. We’re just getting to the good part.”
I take a fortifying breath when he positions my finger back on the trigger. Shit. Think fast, Jasmine. How am I going to get out of this? Right as Preston’s slowly putting pressure on my finger, an eerily calm voice stops him in his tracks.
“Let her go, or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
KINGSTON
My father’s eyes swing in my direction to find me pointing my gun directly at him. Jazz gasps when he bands an arm around her torso and points his gun to her temple. It takes every ounce of control I possess to remain calm.
“Now, now, Kingston. I would put the gun down if I were you. You wouldn’t want poor Jasmine here to get hurt, would you?”
I briefly take inventory of my girl’s appearance. My jaw tics when I notice a bruise blooming on her left cheek, but other than that, she seems relatively unchanged. Although considering her pants are gone, I have to ask.
“You okay, Jazz?” I want to stab myself in the eye the moment the words leave my mouth. Of course, she’s not okay. Even if my dad hasn’t had the chance to do any real damage yet, she still has a madman pressing a gun against her temple.
“I’m okay.” She winces when my father tightens his grip.
“She won’t be if you don’t put the gun down,” my asshole father promises.
“Step. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her.” Each word that comes out of my mouth is laced with deadly intent. “I’m not afraid to kill you.”
“Like father, like son,” he snarls, pointing the gun directly at me now.
