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I think he’s going to leave me alone to shower, but he doesn’t. He leans against the vanity counter and watches my every move. He demands that I shave my legs, my armpits, my pussy, and the crack of my ass before I get out.
I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I’ve never been watched and scrutinized like this before. As much as I want to tell him to go to hell, I don’t. It’s as if I’m in a trance, but more like I’m terrified of what’s coming, the impending doom too much for my mind to accept or even contemplate.
Once I’m clean, toweled off, and standing in front of Ray completely naked with the towel wrapped around my wet hair, I wait for my next instructions. Modesty is now something of the past.
This man watched me take a shower and demanded that I shave every part of myself while he observed. I don’t know if my brain has taken a step back and can’t handle this, so it’s shut down, or if I’m somehow actually coping with this.
I’m not sure how to feel right now, and as much as I want to think that I’ll be able to get out of this without completely breaking, I’m not holding my breath. If I survive this at all, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same as I was before. I don’t think I’ll be anyone Wells will want. I need to face the music, the fact that we’re over. That my life is over.
“Let’s go,” Ray announces, reaching for the towel and yanking it off my head before he lets it drop to the bathroom floor.
It lands on the tile with a swoosh. My feet pad behind him. Thankfully, he doesn’t push or pull me. He just moves through the house, knowing that I understand my place and my fate. The living room comes into view, and he takes a step to the side.
The three men who were there earlier are in different seats, but it’s still just them. Their eyes widen at the sight of my nakedness. I watch as one of them licks their lips, and I can’t look anymore.
Dropping my gaze to my bare feet, I cringe at the sight of toenail polish. It was red when I painted them, probably three weeks ago, maybe longer. But now it’s all chipped up and a complete mess. At least it matches the rest of me now.
“How much for her mouth?” Ray calls out.
My spine straightens. He’s going to have a bidding war right here for my body parts, in front of me, as if I’m not standing right here. A human auction.
What the hell?
Lifting my head, I look at his profile, watching him smile as his gaze scans the men sitting in front of us. One of the men grunts something that I can’t quite make out, and then he continues.
He auctions off every single part of my body. Then, he auctions off the destruction of those parts. And as much as I want to be stony-faced and act as if it doesn’t affect me, silent tears begin to fall down my cheeks at the comprehension of what is coming next.
WELLS
Ray Randolph has her.
“Do you know how to find him?” I ask.
He left me a message on my phone, and when I returned the call, he gave me a bunch of nothing, except that he was planning on hurting her, but he hadn’t yet. I can only imagine how he plans on doing that.
But as we sit in front of his house, it’s clear she isn’t here. Nobody is. This place is abandoned. Turning my head, I look over at my father. If anyone will know where he keeps a safe house, it will be my dad.
“Do you know where he could be?” I ask.
Silence fills the cab of the SUV as I wait for an answer. I’m not letting this go. That fucker has my woman. Even if I wasn’t sure that I wanted her, even if I wasn’t ready for the commitment and wasn’t a hundred-percent okay with her being my reward. Ray doesn’t know that, and it’s not up to him to decide when he can and can’t take her away from me.
Fuck that.
“This is because we killed Shiloh,” Coleman mutters.
“Yeah, I know,” I grunt. “But it wouldn’t have mattered. Once the truth came all the way out, she was as good as dead anyway.”
“How?” Coleman asks.
I can feel his gaze on the side of my face, but I’m still focused straight ahead on this fucking house, knowing that there is something else going on, something that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s there.
“She just was. Coming to your place the way she did, trying to make the two of you happen. Being manipulative. There was no way she was coming out of this deal alive. Not with the antics she was pulling. You asked me yourself, and I was ready then, with or without permission.”
Dad clears his throat but thankfully doesn’t say anything about my obvious disregard for the rules of the family. Instead, he pretends as if he didn’t hear it at all and answers my question from a few moments ago.
“There is one place where he could be. Maybe.”
“Then let’s go,” I grind out.
