Chapter 32 #2
“Then what does it have to do with him?” I bark. Fuck, we’re going around in circles. I turn my attention to Bill. “Make Eve my Lady.”
“I can’t guarantee—”
“I’m a fucking Spade brother,” I shout. “I’ve never asked them for anything.
But this…her. I want her. No matter what it costs me.
I have to be ‘useful’ to them somehow.” His narrowed eyes meet mine.
Hell, even his ex-wife Isabella was going to use Haidyn, from what we guessed.
“Make this happen, William.” I use his real name, and his face tightens.
“Or I will make sure the world knows the truth about you.” He’s got a secret son who trained sex slaves.
He knows about Dollhouse. Made a deal with Adam.
I know there’s more about him that we don’t know, but I will die fucking finding whatever I need.
He walks around his desk, and I meet him halfway. “Do you think threatening me is in your best interest?”
“It should show you how serious I am and that I’ll do whatever needs to be done in order to get what I want. Make it happen.” Then I turn and head for the double doors to exit his study. “I expect to hear from you by noon tomorrow.”
I storm through the house and out the front door. I get into my car, where I squeal my tires as I take off before Adam or Sin can stop me.
I have the urge to go back to Eve’s house, but there’s one more thing I need to do first.
I never really had any plans for my future, but now I know what I want and how long I want it for.
Her name is Everett Sinclair, and I want her forever.
Pulling up to Carnage, I run up the steps and into the building, heading for the hospital. I need to see Devin.
EVERETT
Nineteen years old
A gush of air leaves my lungs when I’m dropped to a hard floor. I groan, rolling over onto my side, and curl into a ball.
“Name?” a woman’s voice asks. It sounds familiar, but my foggy mind can’t place it.
“Everett Sinclair,” a man answers. “Founder. One suicide attempt. One pregnancy but no children—miscarriage and has been sterilized.”
“Mm-hmm,” she states as if she already knows these things about me.
My teeth chatter, and I grab at the thick metal collar around my neck. It’s pinching my skin, but at least the hood is gone.
“What do you want to do with her?” the man goes on at her silence. “She’s pretty much useless to us. Not sure why you even considered accepting her.”
“Men are useless,” she counters.
“Eve?” a new voice says.
A boot kicks my side, forcing me onto my back. I try to fight, but I’m too weak. My heavy eyes open, and I see a man kneeling next to me. He runs his fingers over my exposed chest and down my stomach before they slide between my trembling legs.
I close them tightly, and he laughs, standing to his full height. “She’ll make the perfect whore,” he assures the woman.
I’m unable to make out her face, but I can see movement as she checks her watch. “She’s all yours. I’m leaving. I’ve got dinner plans with my husband in twenty.” She pats his back. “I’ll check in on her in a week to see how she’s doing.” Her heels clap when she exits the room.
“Here,” one of the male voices says and then my collar is gone. I almost cry in relief.
Then I’m picked up. He carries me out of the room and down a brightly lit hallway. It hurts my sensitive eyes. I’ve been wearing a hood for the past few days, so any light seems to be too much.
“Pl-ease.” My voice cracks. I’m so thirsty and my throat is sore, my skin rubbed raw.
His chest rumbles with laughter. “I always knew you’d end up here, Eve.”
I don’t know who this man is. How does he know me?
My head hangs off his arm and lolls side to side while he carries me, and I see little glimpses of red lights above doors as we pass by before we enter one of the rooms. He sets me down in a cold, unforgiving chair, and I shiver.
“There’s usually a series of events that must take place before this, but I think she’ll understand. We’ll go ahead and get started. I can clean you up later. You’re just going to get dirty again anyway.”
She? Who is she? The woman in the heels who handed me over to him? I didn’t get a look at her face.
He kneels down in front of me, spreading my legs, and wraps something rough around each ankle, then does the same to my thighs.
“What—” I try to look around, but my vision is too blurry, my body too weak.
Another belt is placed across my lower waist. Followed by my wrists. I can’t keep up with his movements.
He walks behind the chair I’m strapped to and places something over my face. I mumble into a mask that covers my mouth, nose and cheeks. It pinches my skin as cold air hits my face.
I’m blinking rapidly when he comes to stand in front of me. He grips my chin, pushing my head back and forcing my watery eyes to meet his. “Breathe, Everett. Deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”
I try to shake my head, but I can’t move it.
“Breathe. Come on…deep breath in through your nose.” I do as he says because I can’t not breathe. “That’s good. Out through your mouth.”
As I breathe out, a tingling feeling starts in my toes and the tips of my fingers. “Good girl.” He praises me, and his hand drops from my chin and runs down my sternum. “Again.”
I repeat the breathing, and that tingling intensifies, spreading along my arms and legs.
“That’s it.” His hand drops lower and moves between my legs. He begins to rub my pussy, and I can’t pull away. I’m strapped too tight. “You’re doing so good. I’m going to make you the best whore for them. You’re going to make such a pretty dolly.”
I sit straight up in bed. I’m gasping as my hand goes to my racing heart. My eyes dart around my bedroom and then to the bed. I’m home. Alone. My cell sits on my nightstand playing “Change (In the House of Flies)” by Deftones. Reaching over, I turn it off, needing a second to clear my mind.
Falling back on my mattress, I run a hand down my face, trying to calm my racing pulse while my heavy breathing fills my now quiet room.
Kashton dropped me off at home two days ago, and this is the second night I’ve woken up having the same dream.
He spent a couple of days here with me, and now I can’t sleep without him. His presence makes me feel safe, and I hate that I’m dependent on that. Since when do I need a man to take care of me? I can do that myself.
But I feel like there’s a ghost in my room, standing in the corner staring at me.
Trying to tell me something that I don’t understand.
I’m a sitting duck just waiting for Evan to show up.
I actually find it odd that he hasn’t come by to visit since the reception.
He and Bill aren’t close, but my father told Evan to leave for my benefit.
He’ll be back. He had already warned me that Kashton would be a problem once, and then he saw me there with him.
Hand in hand, kissing, dancing. Evan will make sure to show his face soon.
But he’s not stupid. He’ll lie low for a couple of weeks and then pop back up when he thinks Kashton will toss me to the side. He’s relentless and I owe him. He’ll come to collect payment when I least expect it.
Getting up, I see the clock showing it’s a little after noon.
I’ve been in bed rotting since Kashton dropped me off after our meeting at Blackout.
I could grab a bottle and drink until I pass back out, but I’m actually hungry.
I make my way to the kitchen and see I’m out of alcohol and anything to eat.
So I throw on a T-shirt and yoga pants and toss my hair up in a bun. Guess I’m going to the store.
I’m pushing the cart down an aisle when I hear my name.
“Miss Sinclair?”
Turning, I see a man I recognize. “Mr. Fells.” I give him a smile. “How have you been?”
He pulls me in for a hug and then smiles up at me. I’m five ten, and he’s maybe five eight. On the shorter side for a man and balding, but he’s so nice.
“I was just talking about you not too long ago.”
“Oh?” I arch a brow. Odd thing for him to say, but okay.
“Yeah. To your new neighbors. Have you met them yet?”
I shake my head. I’ve never met any of them. I stick to myself. “I saw that the For Sale sign was gone, but I haven’t seen anyone move in yet.”
“It sold to the Pierce family. You’ll love them.”
“Pierce?” I repeat, making sure I heard him right.
He nods. “Yes, Mr. And Mrs. Pierce. Such a lovely couple.”
I tilt my head to the side and nibble on my lip for a second. “What-what were their first names?”
“Kashton and Amber.” He smiles, proud of himself for remembering that information.
Motherfucker.
“Their children—”
“It was great seeing you, Mr. Fells. I must be going.”
“Oh, yes. Yes. You have a great day, Miss Sinclair. It was great seeing you too.”
I wave him off and spend the next twenty minutes pushing the cart around the grocery store like I’m a mad woman, adding a few things to my shopping list that I didn’t have on it before. And then I’m hitting the liquor store on the way home to restock.