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He flashes me what he probably thinks is a panty-melting grin.
We reach the house, and he opens the door and ushers me inside. When the door closes behind me, he drives home bolts on both the top and bottom. Then he takes a small key from his pocket before unfastening my cuffs.
I rub my wrists, frowning at the red lines marring the skin.
“I really don’t want to hurt you, Honor,” he says. “But you try anything, and I'll beat you so hard, you will wish you were dead. I know how to do it without breaking any bones but while putting you in so much pain you can't bear it.”
“Wow, you reallydosound like a guy who doesn't want to hurt me.” For a moment, I forget my seduction plan and let the sneer show on my face.
The slap, when it comes, is a shock.
“Christ, I've always hated that smart mouth of yours,” he snarls, shaking his hand out after hitting me.
My cheek stings, but he must have tempered the blow because it doesn't hurt all that much. I need to get myself under control and stop annoying him. Not because I really care whether he's angry at me, but because every time I make him rage, there’s the risk he’ll lose ultimate control and do something to harm me before my men find me.
My men. I let that sink in as it rolls around luxuriously in my mind, offering me a comfort in the stark reality of my situation.
They're coming for me. I know it to be true. And the knowledge gives me power. All I must do is harness that power and bide my time.
I imagine Don’s expression as he comes face-to-face with Rafferty, Wilder, Brody, and Asher. There’s no way he won’t be intimidated by the four of them. One thing worries me, however, and that’s the gun. If any of them were to get shot while trying to take Don down, I’d never forgive myself.
I look up at my stepfather through my lashes, and as innocently as I can muster, I say, “Please, may I have a shower? I’m cold and wet.”
He angles his head before replying. “Of course, you may.”
He takes my hand in his and leads me up the stairs. I try not to recoil from the feeling of his fingers around mine.
On the second-floor landing, he throws open a door and, in front of me, is what I would have thought of as a magnificent bathroom in the past, before my time on the island. Now I've seen luxury beyond compare.
“You can shower in here. There is everything you need: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, perfume.” His gaze takes on an intense and unnerving focus as a small smile lifts one side of his mouth. “I purchased all the things I could think a beautiful girl like you might need.”
The way he's looking at me makes me think I might have gotten this all wrong. Maybe this isn't simply a game to him.
There’s an almost lovesick sheen to his gaze, and he’s staring at me as if I’ve hung the stars in the night sky. Oh, God, does Don...does he somehow, in a sick way, love me?
Perhaps there's more to his deranged desires than simple narcissistic greed. Maybe, in a truly sick and twisted way, Don really is obsessed with me. That only means I must be even more careful with this strange game we’re starting to play with one another.
If this is way more than just an ego boost for him, and another notch on his belt, then the timing is even more crucial. Take this too slow, and I risk angering him beyond all belief. Frustrating him until he snaps. Take it too quickly, however, and I risk igniting his suspicions and mistrust. If only I could somehow know for sure exactly what kind of an enemy I'm facing. As it is, however, I will need to use all my wits, and all my charms, to stay ahead of whatever it is that Don has planned for me.
“Thank you,Daddy,” I say.
The word gives me the creeps when I say it to Don like that, but it's a way for me to test a theory.
A new and disturbing theory.
As soon as I say the word, I realize I'm right.
His eyes widen, his nostrils flare, and his pupils darken. It seems Don doesn't simply have an interest in me as a trophy, but rather a full-blown and sick obsession with a girl who was his stepdaughter.
“Do you mind if I have some privacy now?” I ask with as much respect as I can put into my tone.
His voice is gruff, as if he's pouring it over gravel and rocks. “Take your time.”
I can't help but glance down, and when I see the powerful bulge in his trousers, I get a strange and sick thrill.
This is so twisted and fucked up, but in a weird way, this is me taking my power and control because I'm not going to let him do one thing to me...becauseI'mgoing to be the one doing it tohim.
I'm going to do whatever it takes to ensure he keeps me alive, and the moment I either get the chance to do it, or my men find me, then Don is dead.
