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Nix lowers his half of the picture but doesn’t let it go. “Don’t ever, ever mention her again. Not for any reason. Not to us, and definitely not to Dad. Do you understand?” Nothing about the way he says it is nasty or bullying, which might be why his words have such an impact.
“And you never found this,” Colt adds. “Got it?”
It must be their intensity that does it, or maybe it’s the way they are obviously shaken at the sight of her. Whatever the reason, it’s easy to agree. “Yeah, fine. I’ll never bring it up.”
With that, they leave me alone, and I drop to the bed before putting my head in my hands. That was my last chance. I know it. And since things have only escalated every day, I know it’s going to be worse tonight than it was last night.
If only I had gone out the window right away instead of searching the desk. I might have gotten away.
I know he’s home because I hear him down there. He’s looking forward to another night of fun. He sounds upbeat, even happy. I hate it so much to know he’s going to get what he wants. That’s the last thing he deserves.
The click of the lock doesn’t come as a surprise. By the time Nix steps into my room, I’m showered and my legs are shaved, the whole nine yards. I would hate to see what would happen if I kept James waiting, no matter how it kills me to know he’ll be pleased. I’m not so stubborn that I would push his buttons on purpose.
Nix is holding a glass of wine, which he extends my way. “Trust me.”
Trust him? That’s a laugh. I take it to the bathroom and dump it down the sink before returning to him, glaring, daring him to say something. All I get is a disbelieving smirk and a slight shake of his head. “There’s no helping some people.”
“Whatever. You had the chance to help me earlier by letting me go, and you didn’t. Can we just get this over with?” I don’t feel half as defiant as I sound. Mouthing off and pretending this isn’t tearing me up inside are my only ways of getting a little of myself back.
We start down the stairs, and there’s no helping my curiosity. “What’s it going to be tonight?”
“Relax and do as you’re told,” he replies, his voice flat. Like he’s reading off a set of prepared remarks or something.
“Like I have a choice.”
“Just let us do what we’re going to do, and it will be over.” I have to bite my lip to hold back all the many ugly, enraged thoughts running through my head. I could push him down the stairs right now, couldn’t I? We’re still far enough from the bottom that he might seriously hurt himself. No, with my luck, he’d end up just fine. And I would still have to go through with this, only it would be worse because he’d want to get back at me.
We go straight down to the basement, where James is already waiting in front of the TV. Some sort of sports commentary plays, not that I care, but I’d rather watch it than have to acknowledge the man smiling at me now. “Leni. I’m telling you, there’s nothing better to set eyes on after a long day at the office. Knowing you’re here and we’re going to have all this fun together makes it possible for me to get through my day.”
I don’t bother hiding my contempt as I stare at him. If he’s waiting for a response, he’ll be waiting a long time.
His smile fades away, revealing the true man beneath the façade. I guess the game isn’t as much fun if he knows he’s the only one playing. “Get her ready,” he grunts, turning back to the TV.
The coffee table is gone again, this time replaced by something else: a weight bench, smack dab in the center of the floor. Nix steps up behind me while I stare at the bench, wondering what it means. “Time to get undressed.”
Meanwhile, Colt comes walking down the stairs behind us, his tread heavy.
I look over my shoulder, and the sight of the vinyl straps he’s carrying makes my knees shake. They aren’t plain straps, either. There’s a cuff on either end of both of them.
When I don’t start taking my clothes off, Nix decides to help me, pulling the shirt over my head almost before I know what he’s doing. My thoughts are too jumbled, panic, disgust, and hatred all fighting for control of my brain.
I watch Colt arranging the straps under the bench, wrapping them around the metal legs before standing and finally looking at me.
“It’s okay,” Colt says in a whisper, barely audible over the TV. He unbuttons my jeans and lets them fall to the floor. “You’ll be fine. Just lie there, and we’ll get it over with. It’ll be done before you know it.”
