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32
Mare
Soft humming filled my ear. The sound was gentle, sweet almost. As I rose from the depths of unconsciousness, my senses returning one by one, I realized it wasn’t a song to be lulled into comfort by. A hand ran over my scalp and down my shoulder blades, soft strokes. My skin pebbled, goosebumps rising along my arms as my eyes flew open.
A gasp left my lips when I came face to face with Ben … Nathanial. The humming continued, his eyes never straying from mine. Hard, soulless, the nearly ebony irises as cold as arctic ice. The longer he stroked my hair, the more my heart started to pound, fear winding its way through my body. I had tried to escape, and now there was no telling what he might do. So I waited, patiently and as still as I could, while staying as vigilant as possible. If he moved, I would be ready.
“My little America,” he murmured after another long stretch of humming, “you tried to run away.”
Fusing my mouth shut, I didn’t respond, knowing it would only set him off more. Painful pinpricks raced over my skin, and I was hyper aware of what was going on around me. Every breath, stroke, and expression. Fight or die were my two options, and there was no way in hell I was going to let this bastard kill me.
“I don’t want to punish you. You won’t like what happens when I do that. Charlotte didn’t listen either.” Bile crept up my throat, the scent that surrounded the house only seeming to grow stronger with his words.
“Charlotte?” I clarified. The same Charlotte that’d been missing for days. Realization was slow to dawn, but when it did, I felt sick all over again. “What happened to her?” I croaked, the words cracking with barely contained disgust. Even as I asked the question, I knew what had happened to my coworker; the smell of death and rot wafting around us gave it away. The landlords’ bodies were probably still here, but was Charlotte’s?What had this fucking psycho done to her?
“She didn’t help you.” His smile widened, a glimmer of excitement alight in his gaze at the mention of killing someone. “She always left you with all the work, taking advantage of your innocent nature, and that day she stood at the bar flirting with the bartender, laughing behind your back while you did everything, that was the last straw. That wasn’t very nice of her, so I punished her. You deserve to be treated with respect by others.”
The irony of his words was almost laughable; a cold sarcastic chuckle threatened to spill out, but the fear of what he might do choked me, keeping it contained. There was no doubt he would likely lose his shit if I insulted him. I just needed to wait and see what he did. But I needed to remember that when it was time for me to fight back, it would be life and death. Thank fucking God Jensen had worked with me on my fighting skills. So far, I hadn’t lived up to his expectations, but when push came to shove, I had to hope and fucking pray that they would be enough. Thinking about them—my guys—even for just a moment, though, made my heart squeeze painfully. They were probably freaking out right now and likely working on a plan to track me down.
I shoved the thought of them away as Nathanial started to stand, climbing off the lumpy mattress that was laid out on the floor. As sure as I was that the guys would come for me, I couldn’t rely on them. For now, it was just me and Nathanial.
“If you would just be a good girl, America,” he started with a shake of his head. I stiffened at those words.Good girl? If I would just be a fucking good girl?I wasIan’sgood girl. I was a good girl for Jensen and Archer. Not Nathanial, not anyone else other than the three of them. From them, the endearment was welcome, wanted even. They had permission to call me that, but the man before me didn’t. His lips twisted it, morphing something I loved into something vile.
He continued to talk, but I didn’t hear him. Every word he murmured was lost to the white noise filling my ears. I only watched him, as he walked around in leisurely circles lecturing me, not even bothering to stop as I sat up. Maneuvering off the bed took some time with my bound wrists, but my ankles were free, and despite feeling my legs wobble underneath me when I stood, I kept firm.
“I just want you to be good, to love me back. That’s not so hard, right?” he asked, my mind finally processing his words. He waited patiently for my response, lips thinning when I scowled back at him—all pretense of trying to keep him calm gone. Instead, my rage pulsed, hot and ugly in my chest. Even if playing along with this lunatic was the wisest course of action, I couldn’t. No one had the right to take something I gave to the men I trusted more than any other. Everyone else could go fuck themselves, and Nathanial, in particular, was about to get fucked in the worst way.
“You think so?” I bit out, readying myself for what I knew would come. With each word, my anger grew, a dark malleable thing that molded straight into the core of me. It was vibrant and strong, and itburned. “Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not a good girl, and certainly not for you. You want me to begood?” I challenged. “You want me to stop trying to get away? Well, that’s never going to happen. I’m never going to stop trying to get away.” My volume rose. “Anything you think you’re going to get from me? You better think the fuck again because I’ll fight it—whatever it is. I’ll never love you because I. Love. Them!” By the end of it, I was screaming, chest heaving.
I panted and waited for his response, but he surprised me. I’d expected anger. I’d expected violence. Instead, he hummed, looking over me as if disappointed. My heartbeat jumped as he reached into his pockets. When his hand came out though, it wasn’t a gun or a knife, just a pair of simple black gloves.
“Well then,” he said as he pulled them on, snapping the ends against his wrists, “I guess your father was right.” When he lifted his head and looked at me once more, my breath froze in my chest. If I’d ever questioned what this man was—I no longer did. The look in his eyes wasn’t that of the man who’d come in and ordered the same meal five days in a row. It wasn’t the man who’d smiled at me as I hurried across Brutello’s dining room. That man didn’t exist. This man was a killer, and I’d pushed him past the breaking point. I straightened my spine, wishing like hell I’d convinced him to untie me before I lost my temper, but that wasn’t going to stop me now.
If this man wanted to kill me, then he’d have to fucking work for it.
