50. Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty
Kat
Apiercing tone cut through what I thought might’ve been a very pleasant dream.
I groaned, but it was my ringtone. I didn’t want to wake Henry with it.
I shifted, noticing that I was pretty sure I was in the exact same place I’d fallen asleep.
Curled up on top of Henry, my head in the crook of his neck.
The second I shifted, he grumbled and his arms tightened around me. I kissed his jaw since it was what I could reach.
“Sweetie, I need to get that if you want it to stop,” I said softly, knowing he had to have a headache.
I had a bit of one, but compared to every single muscle in my body, my head was nothing.
I groaned, struggling hard to get up. But I finally snagged my phone off the nightstand and shut the thing up.
“Hello?” I said questioningly, not recognizing the number.
“Ms. Brooks, we have a call for you. Is now a good time or would you like us to take a message?” came a professional voice.
It was the hotel; I had the room phone forwarded to my cell.
But I hadn’t actually expected anyone to call here.
Maybe it was my mom, since I’d ignored a few more of her calls since yesterday evening.
“I’ll take it, thank you,” I said with a soft sigh, not ready for my mother in all her self-righteous glory, but also not wanting her to blow up the hotel phones constantly. I stood, a deep groan pulling from my chest, but I managed to hobble into the bathroom and softly click the door shut.
Henry was already back asleep, I’d noticed.
“Hello, Katherine dear,” came the calm, unbothered, nearly amused voice that haunted my nightmares.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I could.
I sank to my knees on the tile, unable to stay upright.
I was working hard to control my breathing, telling myself I wouldn’t let this bastard affect me like this.
He’d already taken enough.
“How was your night? It looked like you had a rough evening, but it’s so hard to tell from pictures.
But you clearly had a VERY good night from the audio recordings I received,” he bragged.
My blood ran cold at the insinuation. I—we—were being watched.
Photographed. Recorded. Even here, even now, safe in our hotel, if he was to be believed. He could be bluffing, though.
Public photographs and private hotel audio recordings were two very different beasts, after all.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, chuckling softly at his own joke.
I wasn’t laughing.
I leaned back heavily against the wall, my entire body trembling. I knew some of that was the strenuous activity last night.
But most of it was the motherfucker’s voice.
“No matter, you don’t need to speak. I just wanted to let you know our game isn’t over. Far from it, my dear,” he stated matter-of-factly. But I knew for a fact he was in prison. For sure. Absolutely. One hundred percent.
And his trial was still a long time coming. I knew that too. Without a doubt. We were safe.
From him, at least.
“I’ll be free soon enough to hunt my own prey, but until then, my boss still needs someone to answer for the lies we were told,” he said conversationally, no venom in his voice.
That made it so much worse. Goosebumps—not the good kind—rippled down my arms, and I swallowed down the vomit that rose in my throat. I dropped my head to my knees.
I could hang up.
I knew that.
But those words. Free. Hunt. Prey.
I needed to know.
“Everyone knows better than to mess with my unfinished business. But payment still needs to be made. In blood. We will have that money, and now we need retribution,” he continued.
I could practically see him studying his fingernails, bored.
Like he’d done all those times he’d talked and talked and talked at me in the warehouse, when I was still hazy from the drugs.
“Hmm…” he said, trailing off, feigning to not know what he was saying next.
He absolutely knew.
“You know, my dear, there are a lot of very sick men in my line of work,” he started. I couldn’t breathe. I was gasping like a dying fish and I knew he could hear me.
“Much worse than me. Truly. In many ways that I find quite distasteful. But some of them, this is their only… outlet… shall we say. Me? This is a job to me. Most of the time. But we’ve gone ahead and let them know it’s open season.
It’s a race, of sorts, for them. A scavenger hunt.
Should be fun, really. I’m sorry to miss it,” he continued, musing.
“Now, how to make that insolent little liar pay when he’s marked as mine,” he said in a fake wondering tone. I wanted to kill him. I should’ve fucking shot him. I couldn’t let him touch Henry again. Never.
Never again.
“I guess I’ll just have to let my men go after the thing he loves most, and do their worst. Do you think he’ll still want you when they’re done?
I’ve seen their work. I can promise you, he won’t.
Oh, that will be so very rich. And then when I’m rid of this sordid place?
” he asked. I didn’t answer. I wouldn’t deign to play into his sick and twisted fantasies.
Not to mention if I opened my mouth, I’d be heaving into the toilet.
“Mhm. Yes. When I’m free? What do they always say?” he asked, fully laughing now.
“Ah, yes. Third time’s the charm.”