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Just as I started defending Mike, Lachlan added, “Granted, his crew likes to present a clean-handed façade to maintain their image. But I assure you, Ms. Bennett, his hands were extremely dirty, as was his mind. And you were nothing more than an object to be used and abused once he forced you into a marriage.”
“That isn’t—”
“I’d have you ask your Wake Forest friends if I ever planned on letting you see them again,” he said darkly. “But that is why they took out so many of his crew. That is why they called for your precious boyfriend’s death—because they knew what he had done and what he was capable of.”
“You’re lying,” I breathed, but the words sounded unsure, and tears were slipping from my eyes onto my arms.
“Did he ever tell you why he was so eager to get out of Tennessee?” Lachlan asked, goading me. “Did he ever mention his brother and the rest of his generation were murdered just before he fled to Virginia?”
My chest felt too tight and too small as denials gathered on my tongue and were weighed down by doubt.
Because Mike had a brother. I knew he did. But he’d stopped talking to his family when he’d moved to Richmond with me—said they’d had a falling out. His parents wouldn’t even take my calls to inform them about the horrific incident. I’d eventually had to let them know over voicemail.
“Vicious, sure...you can label me that. You can label us all that,” he admitted, then drew in closer and closer until his next whispered taunts were being delivered in my ear. “As long as you remember I’m no different than the other monsters you’ve been fucking.”
I jerked away when his teeth grazed my jaw, my chest shuddering and hands curling into fists against the comforter beneath me when another rough laugh escaped him. The softness of it making it more sinister than amusing.
“I like you like this,” he said as he pushed away from the bed. “Get used to being beneath me, Ms. Bennett. I plan on keeping you that way.”
I clenched my jaw tight to keep any of the responses gathering on my tongue from breaking free because he was already slipping the mask over his face and backing away, and I wanted nothing more than for him to leave.
But despite the brand on my shoulder, I would never belong to him. I had no intention of letting him that close to me again. And if I couldn’t figure a way out of this windowless, locked room, I would die before he could make good on his promise.
With a low, sharp whistle, the massive dog awkwardly scrambled up and jumped off the bed to follow Lachlan. “Until next time, Ms. Bennett.”
Chills skated across my body at the promise, but I just looked straight ahead, refusing to meet that neon stare.
As soon as he was gone, I got off the bed as quickly and quietly as possible—as if he might be outside the door, waiting to catch me. Righting my shirt as I turned in slow circles, I looked wildly for something—anything that might help me get out of this godforsaken room.
As if I hadn’t already spent countless hours searching the room for this exact purpose.
But nothing had changed and there was nothing new. I’d already tried everything I could think of to unlock the only door that led out. I’d broken numerous things to use the shards and splinters in place of a key on the doorknob. Nothing had worked.
Just as I determined to try a picture frame fragment again, the door opened to the girl who’d been coming and going the past days.
At least, I assumed it was the same one. Most of their masks had differences here and there—from color to the neon shapes. And hers was very distinct. One eye was an outline of a large heart. The other was a horizontal line, making it look like she was winking.
The pink neon might’ve been cute, but paired with the stitched smile beneath, she looked even more unhinged and terrifying than the others.
“Ms. Bennett,” she began in a condescending tone as she set down a plate of new food, “you weren’t about to do something naughty...were you?”
“Why do every one of y’all call me ‘Ms. Bennett?’” I asked instead of answering, my grip around the wooden shard tightening. “I have a name.”
“To remind you of your place,” she said easily as she held out her hand, a folded piece of paper secured between two fingers.
And I knew without taking it from her or looking inside what it would be...
Another drawing.
“Who’s the person draw—”
“Ms. Bennett is to remind you we know who you are and where you come from,” she began over me, voice startling in its force. “Which means we know your family. So, if you aren’t a good little girl, we can get to them as easily as we got to you.”
My gaze had snapped to that horrifying mask as she’d spoken, dread spreading through me slow and thick as I realized what she was implying.
When she extended her hand toward me again, I numbly reached for the drawing. A new kind of fear seeping into my bones as I shakily unfolded the thick paper to reveal whatever they wanted to mock me with next.
My chest caved with a shuddering breath as I took in the beautiful willow tree, and tears pricked my eyes. “Why are you doing this?” The question came out thick and muted, and I struggled around the lump in my throat. Clearing it, I looked up at her and asked, “Why—who—”
