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Ipeered through the darkness at the red glowing numbers of the alarm clock on my nightstand. It was nine-thirty in the morning, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d been sleeping. My head throbbed as I struggled to sit up.
“It’s good to see you awake.” The voice was low and sultry.
I jumped before I spotted Donovan in the corner.
“What day is it?” My tongue was thick, and my throat scratchy and raw. I closed my eyes as the memories of Ashkov punctured my soul. The emotions and heartache from the torture surrounded me like a toxic fog, killing me slowly in the process.
“You’ve slept for the last twenty-four hours. I suspect you’re not feeling too well. There’s water, Advil, and an OxyContin near your clock. You’ll find a pack of crackers there, too. You shouldn’t take the medication on an empty stomach.”
How fucking noble of you to sell me, then play nurse.I hadn’t ever had anyone be kind or respect me, so I knew better than to fall for his bullshit. Tears pricked my eyes as I leaned over and wrapped my aching fingers around the glass. I sipped it slowly, recalling the times I’d gulped down the soothing liquid only to have it come rushing up minutes later. If Donovan were closer, I would happily vomit all over him.
As I struggled to rip the cracker package open, Donovan rose from his seat and sat on the side of the bed, the mattress giving way to his large form. He held out a hand, and I shoved the food at him. With ease, he ripped it open, then gave the packet back to me.
“You’re being terrifyingly nice,” I murmured. I nibbled on the cracker, the dry texture forming a paste in my mouth. Sipping the water again, I leaned against the headboard.
“It’s my job to tend to you after you’re out for an evening.”
I barked out a laugh. “Is that what you call this? More like protecting your property,” I sneered. Sadness enveloped me. I was a person, a human being, but between the ballet world and Donovan’s twisted abuse, I would never be seen as one. Maybe it was time that I realized that I might not have been successful in my suicide attempt but I’d died a long time ago. “You make me sick. How much did Ashkov pay you for me?”
“Three million.” Pride oozed from Donovan as though he personally had carefully crafted my body for Ashkov’s pleasure.
A horrified gasp escaped me. I had no idea that he was pocketingmillionsoff my pain and humiliation. Ignoring the thrum of pain coursing through me, I slapped Donovan across the cheek. “I will dance on your grave when someone puts a bullet through your skull.” Venom dripped from my words.
Donovan grabbed my wrist, causing my drink to slosh over the edge of the glass and onto my lilac comforter. With his free hand, he rubbed his face with the other, laughing. “He must have done a number on you, sis. Your lame-ass attempt to hurt me barely even stung.” He held my hand up and examined the cuts beneath my arm. “Make sure you wear long sleeves until these are healed. The cuts aren’t deep, but he marked you everywhere, all over your body.”
I jerked away from him as though he’d just seared my skin. “He’s a sadistic, sick fuck. You’ve heard the rumors, you were the one that told them to me. He tortures his victims, then murders them. He’s worse than any other man you’ve sold me to. I’ve never been raped with a goddamn soda bottle! How could you sell me to him?” I spat.
A sharp breath rushed from my lungs as he wound my ponytail around his fist and jerked. “Watch your tone, Giselle, or I’ll sell you to him again.”
A suffocating anxiety reared its ugly head, and I gripped the bedspread as fear twisted my stomach into knots. The mere thought of being tortured by Ashkov a second time forced my mouth closed.
“That’s a good girl. Take your medicine and get some sleep, darling. I’ll be right over here if you need anything.”
Disgust tightened my chest as he sank into the chair across the room. I understood that Donovan had no plans of leaving me alone anytime soon.
He nodded to the oxy and kept a constant eye on me while I behaved like a child and took the fucking pill. I wasn’t sure why he found it necessary to babysit me. It wasn’t as though I was able to run after Ashkov’s abuse.
It turned out that the drug dosage was higher than what was typically provided to a patient recovering from surgery. It knocked me out in minutes, and if I wasn’t dreaming about Ashkov, I was dreaming about my bodyguard, which at least was a better alternative than reliving every second with the devil. Donovan had sold me to sick bastards before, but Ashkov took it to a whole new level.
Zayne’s face flickered through my thoughts, and I focused on him to try and mentally sidestep the physical and emotional pain. My drug-addled imagination drifted, and I entertained the idea of what it might look like to be more than just the girl Zayne had saved. Then I reminded myself that my growing interest in him would never work. If he knew what I was—a disgusting sex slave—he would run in the other direction. Guilt and shame seeped into my heart, coating it with self-hatred and loathing. Once again, I wished my life would end.
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I snuggled beneath the blankets, hiding from Donovan. I refused to let him see that he’d finally broken me. One thing was clear, though. I needed help, and there was only one possibility I could think of—my bodyguard. Fear gripped me, my stomach rolling with unease. If I asked for his help, and it backfired, not only was my life on the line, so was …
I sank my teeth into my lower lip, muffling the cry that threatened to escape. If anything happened to her, I would never be able to forgive myself. I would rather live in this hell than make a wrong decision and have it affect the only other person on this planet I cared about.
Closing my eyes, I silently cried onto my pillow as I wrestled with the idea of trusting my bodyguard. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a read on him. Even when Donovan was a total ass, Zayne’s expression and body language never changed.
The oxy started to blur my thoughts as I scrambled to form a plan. It would only take a few times to test him and determine what Zayne was made of. Was he another monster, or was he the man I needed him to be? Only time would tell, and it was running out.
13
Zayne
“You know I can’t do anything based purely on suspicion. I’ve had my own concerns, but we have to have something concrete. If we turn Donovan over for abuse, he’ll be released from a night or two of jail, then go after Giselle. It might end up causing her more harm,” Pierce said, rocking back in his office chair, his brown eyes capturing mine. He tapped his pen on top of the stack of papers on his desk.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking your wife.” I peered over at Sutton, who sat in the leather wingback chair next to mine. She was scribbling away on the notebook she’d brought with her to the meeting.
“I do believe you, Zayne. If you think something is off, then we need to discreetly dig and make sure that Giselle isn’t in danger,” Pierce assured me.
