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Grant ignores me as he glances over at Trip. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, just trying to figure out why someone would fuck with our doll.” Trip shrugs. “She was just about to tell me who else she’s messed with.”
I want to jump up and slap him. How can he possibly think that I would make a habit of blackmailing people? Am I a good person? No, but I certainly try to keep my illegal activities to the barest of minimums. Murder and blackmail I can check off my list, never to be repeated again. But as angry as I am, all I have in me is a huff.
“I’ve never blackmailed anyone else.”
“I don’t know if I believe you,” Trip scoffs.
“How about we interrogate our doll over dinner since it’s ready?” Jason calls from the kitchen.
Trip turns and I look past him to see Jason pull out a glass dish full of cheesy goodness from the oven and carry it over to the table. My stomach growls, loud enough for Trip to hear. He looks down at me and gives me the tightest of smiles. Grant places my bag next to the front door and strolls over to us. Dressed in just a well-cut t-shirt and designer jeans, he looks like a model as he passes us and heads into the kitchen.
I rise to my feet and together, Trip and I follow. My stomach drops when I see the table is set for three. Not wanting to assume anything, I start to take a step back, but Grant’s hand wraps around my bicep, halting my progress. Trip and Jason move to sit down. Clearly there is a hierarchy at the table, and Grant is at the head of it.
“Sit,” he orders softly.
I try to pull my arm away, but his hold tightens on me.
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he says as he takes his place at the head of the table.
“There’s nowhere for me to—”
“There is a perfectly good floor for you to sit on.”
He can’t be serious… Can he? After the night I’ve had, he’s really going to put me through this now? I look at the other two who are dishing out their meal. I don’t know why. It’s not like they are going to save me. With a heavy sigh, I slowly sink to my knees. I bite the inside of my cheek to help hold back my tears.
“There, was that so hard, dollface?” Grant asks.
I ignore him, hating everyone in the room more than I have in a long time. For a few minutes, no one speaks as they pile their plates with food. My stomach growls loudly. I silently curse it and the guys. Why would they bring me here tonight? Did it occur to them that this would be a prime opportunity to break me? Because I’m close. Talking to Pianna this morning helped keep me sane during the day, but the reprieve has been short-lived.
Mentally bracing myself, I prepare for a night of misery.
Twenty-Four
“Now, dollface, we’re going to ask you a series of questions. If you answer without giving us a hard time, you’ll eat,” Grant says, conversationally. “If you don’t, we’ll send you to bed without food and with a vibrator shoved up your ass.”
My butt cheeks clench together in terror.
“First things first,” Jason asks, quick to start. “Why didn’t you call us the second you realized someone had broken into your apartment?”
I shoot his knees, the only thing I can see from my vantage point, a hard glare before mumbling,
“I didn’t think any of you would pick up, let alone care.”
The three of them say nothing to this. But their lack of a verbal response doesn’t mean they don’t react at all. Tension gathers and grows thick in the room. From where I sit, I can see Trip’s body stiffen, and I hear someone growl under their breath.
“Eat, dollface.”
I turn my head to find a fork of pasta hovering in front of me.Thisis how they intend to feed me? By hand under the table? Like an animal? My teeth grind together as I stare at the creamy alfredo dangling in front of me. I’m tempted to whack it away. Unfortunately, I have a feeling if I do that, Grant will make me lick it off the floor. Tentatively, I lean forward and take the bite offered to me. Humiliation keeps my back stiff and my eyes averted.
“I hope you like it,” Jason says, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that doesn’t sound like him.
I don’t reply. I simply chew, swallow, then glare at the floor.
“Why do you think we wouldn’t care?” Grant asks next.
My face burns hot, but I grind out between clenched teeth, “Because why would you? We’re not friends or anything.”
