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‘Who were you expecting, Annie?’
My skin crawled as he got closer. My father called me Annie.
Nobody else got to call me by that name.
‘Hey, asshole,’ I greeted him. ‘Come to take me on another vacation?’
He snickered. ‘You wish. Follow me.’
When I didn’t move to follow him, he turned on the ball of his black leather loafer and grinned, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit. I knew what he was going to show me before he’d even removed the small crumpled square.
He had me over a goddamn barrel, and he knew it.
‘Stop,’ I said sharply, putting up a hand. ‘I’ll come.’
He laughed. ‘Usually they tell me to keep going when they come.’
‘You’re so immature,’ I muttered, shaking my head as I followed him down the hallway and to something worse than I had ever imagined.
At the other end of the hallway, past the bathroom I was allowed to stop off and use, stood a large, blank room. It looked like it had once been a garage, but now it was an open space, sunlight streaming in from thin rectangular windows that flanked one side. The ceiling seemed very high, in stark contrast to the small room I’d been in. It reminded me of the way the sun had streamed in through the stained-glass windows of our church, back when Papa had still insisted on us attending.
‘Over here,’ Murphy said, pointing into the middle of the room, and that was the moment my heart froze in my throat.
What the —
I backed away, towards the door. ‘I’m not getting on there,’ I said, looking at the bed with stainless-steel stirrups. A trolley with scalpels, and other sharp instruments that promised blood and pain, stood beside it. Holy Jesus, what was he going to do to me? Were they going to harvest my goddamn kidneys?
‘Relaaaaaaax,’ Murphy coaxed coldly, his bony fingers encircling the back of my neck and pulling me along with him.
‘Wait!’ I pleaded. He paused momentarily, surprising me.
I burned with shame as fresh tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t cry! I wasn’t weak! What was happening to me? I was so angry with myself for crumbling at the moment when my strength was most crucial.
‘Please,’ the words bubbled from me as my cheeks heated with shame. ‘Please just tell me what’s going to happen.’
His face softened minutely, as did the grip on the back of my neck.
‘Nobody’s going to kill you,’ he said, pushing me towards the bed.
I put my hands out to stop from falling onto it.
‘It’s a medical check. Get your pretty panties off and get on the bed.’
A medical check. That required stirrups? Jesus Christ.
I turned my back to the bed so I was facing him again, and sucked in a deep breath. He must have seen the hesitation on my face, because he rolled his eyes and reached into his breast pocket, his eyebrows raised.
That goddamn photo would be the death of me. I held up a palm and then hitched my dress up, reaching underneath and tugging my panties down. My heart sank as I thought of all the things he could potentially ask me to do, holding that photo of my baby boy as ransom.
All the things I’d say yes to, to protect my son.
I kicked off the panties and went to grab them from the floor. ‘Leave them there,’ he said. ‘Get on the bed.’
I scowled, but I left the panties on the floor and shimmied up onto the bed. It was so high, it was like it had been made for giants. I leaned against the back of the bed, which was in a sitting position, but didn’t put my legs in the stirrups.
My pulse quickened in my chest as Murphy bent down and collected the black lace panties he had purchased for me. He brought them up to his nose and breathed in deeply, before pocketing the panties. That wicked glint was back in his freakish blue eyes as he circled around to the end of the bed and stood between the stirrups.
I was about to tell him how lovely he’d look wearing my panties when he yanked each of my ankles forward and draped them over the stirrups. The move was so violent, so unexpected, that I barely had time to make sure my dress was covering between my legs, let alone try to kick him in the face.
