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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When I wake, I’m in a square room with no windows. It’s gray, with concrete walls and floor. My eyes feel heavy and swollen as I glance down, seeing I’m tied to a wooden chair. I let out a sigh. “Torturing me again, Milton?”
There’s no reply, and I realize then that everything hurts. Gritting my teeth, I try and pull free of the binds, wincing when the rope burns my wrists. The exertion makes my temples throb, and that’s when I remember being hit over the head.
Something Miltonwouldn’tdo.
“You’re awake—” My eyes snap to the right. Nicole stands there, half-hidden in shadow. She’s wearing a tight black dress and heels, hair down, and her face smothered in makeup. “Welcome home.”
“Get the fuck out,” I say, my throat sore and dry.
She rolls her eyes. “You know, when our mother put you in Stonehill, dad and I agreed it was stupid. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Doesn’t surprise me you’re still talking to dad...” I pull against the rope, but it’s been tied into several knots. “Do you bond over cocaine and being shit people?”
“Blake sent me to tell you—”
“Why doesn’t Blake come in here and tell mehimself?” I growl at her, and she takes a step back. I’m not sure what she sees, but I know it’s not the old girl I used to be—meek and afraid. So damn naive thinking she ever cared about me. “I’m not fucking scared of him. Or you. Or Nicolas.”
“You should be.” The door opens, and Blake steps inside the room with a cigar between his two fingers. Turning to him, Nicole goes to say, “She—”
“Go. I think Heidi and I are overdue a chat.”
Nicole leaves the room promptly, and Blake slams the door after her. Grabbing a chair, he drags it over and sets it down in front of me. Sitting, he crosses one leg over the other and leans back. We stare at each other. I don’t think I ever have before—I’ve always avoided direct eye contact. Now, however, I’m looking at my monster face to face. Hate for him burns worse than the rope. He’s wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, and boots. He’s aged some. He has more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and his hair is grayer than it is blond. He’s stillhim,though. Still has the crazed aura about him.
“You’ve changed,” he finally says, smoke clouding from his mouth as he does, steely eyes moving over me. “…You’re all grown up.”
“Does that repulse you?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Not that I care anyway. Not that he does. He only laughs.
Getting up, he goes behind me. I stiffen when I sense him move closer.
“Oh baby, I’m hard already. Want to feel?” I bite my inner cheeks when he bends down and rubs his crotch against my bound hands. Sick fills my mouth when I feel his erection, but I swallow it back. He walks back to the chair and slouches in it again. “Problem is, I don’t feel like fucking you. Not until you give me answers to some questions.”
“What questions?”
“Like how that fucker wasn’t dead?”
“I don’t know about that…” Even the thought of talking about Milton makes me want to break down. Because he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. I knew Blake would have questions, and I’ll give him what he needs without bringing in Milton’s friends or Club X. “He found me when I was in Stonehill—he didn’t mention it.”
“And then what? What did he want?”
“To torture me. He almost killed me, actually. I nearly bled to death….”
Even Blake frowns at this. “Why the fuck would he do that toyou?”
“Because he was angry at me. At the lie I told you.”
“What lie?”
“That Milton fucked me, not your son.” He says nothing, just stares at me with a stone expression on his face. “When one of your men walked in and caught him, he told me to say it was Milton or he’d kill Nicole.” I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “I should’ve let him.”
I’m not sure what Blake’s thinking. He’s still staring at me with that expressionless look. Eventually, he says, “You think I don’t know about you and my son?”
I’m not surprised by this. Of course, he knew. “I’m sure you had different reasons for going along with having Milton sent to the Hill.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He’s dead.” He lifts his cigar to his mouth and sucks on it. My head bows. Milton’s dead. I refuse to show the monster my sadness, so he can feed on it. “Did you team up with Milton before or after killing my grandbaby?”
I lift my head, frowning. “What?”
