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"Sign the fucking paperwork, bitch!" he booms in my silence, but I don't even flinch. I can feel my body slowly giving up.
It hurts to talk, to even move.
I'm curious what Jayden is doing right now.
Is he looking for me? Or is he happy to get rid of his problem?
I'd snort if I could. My husband loves me more than anything. I know he'll be going crazy, and I hate that. I hate that his worst fears have come to life.
It's just a shame he won't know that this is happening because of my past and not his.
"Are you listening to me, you little leech?" he shouts, but again, I ignore him.
He killed my parents, he killed my baby sister, and he may have killed my baby.
Oh God, a thought hits me, and I rasp, "D-did y-you run Jayden off the road?"
He chuckles darkly. "Of course, I fucking did! I needed him out of the way. If I'd known he was your husband, then I would have turned around and run over his body!"
Well…. Looks like Jayden is better off without me in his life.
He could have been killed because of me.
A part of me dies with that knowledge.
"Are you ready to sign the paperwork now? I promise to leave your husband alone if you do…. Well, as long as he stays quiet after your funeral."
Like he'd be invited to my funeral. Does he believe I never spoke about him and his obsession with my money?
Besides, he wouldn't get anywhere near my husband. His family has been slowly worming their way back into his heart, and he doesn't even realize it.
I slowly turn my head to look at Dexter, my arms aching from being in the same position, tied to the bed. I give him a smirk or what I hope looks like a smirk and state, "Good luck with that. You have a whole club to get through."
His eyes harden before me as his face reddens. One moment, he's sitting, the next, he's picking up a broom handle and hitting me with it.
I cry out, unable to defend myself, as he keeps hitting on swinging. He aims at my chest, pounding away.
"Sign. The. Fucking. Paperwork." He punctuates each word as he hits me with the broom handle.
My breathing becomes ragged. The lack of food and water, the continuous beatings…it’s too much.
He goes to hit me again when the metal door is kicked open, and he jumps back as my eyes connect with my husband's wild ones.
My tears fall with relief as he roars out in pain. There’s a lot of commotion as men flood the room, but I can only focus on my husband as he rushes toward me.
As he gets closer, everything gets darker, and my body gives out.
"Violet!"
27
Tats
"Hey Tats…."
Someone tries to purr in my ear. I don't know who, and I don't fucking care. Right now, I'm a ticking time bomb, and Sniper knows this.
"Crystal, if I was you, I would slowly turn around and walk away because you're fucking life depends on it." Sniper ain’t wrong.
