“I tried to help her,” he rushes out. “Just…just tell me she’s okay.”
“Your mother is dead. Your father is missing. Know anything about that?” I snap, ignoring his question.
“I need you to trust me, Haidyn.” He sighs. “Please. I tried—” He cuts himself off. “I’m trying to fix it.”
Looking over at the bathroom door, I can hear her crying while she sits in the bathtub washing off her mother’s blood. “What do you need me to do?” He’s on my shit list, but I’m doing this for her, not him.
“Just keep her alive. I’ll contact you soon.” The line goes dead just as Kashton returns to Saint’s bedroom.
I pocket my cell before he can see me on it, knowing that things will get worse before they get better.
Stepping back from the window,I pull the cell from my pocket and find the number I want. They answer on the second ring.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Are you in town?” I ask, my eyes going to the door to make sure no one enters. Privacy isn’t a fucking thing when you live with two other men.
“Yeah, why?”
“Ashtyn is here.”
A silence lingers over the other end of the phone before he asks, “Here—as in there at Carnage?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck! How did that happen?” he snaps.
“Whitney,” I respond. “Some shit went down with Tyson and his wife, and it led to Whitney ratting out where Ashtyn was. Kash and Saint brought her back yesterday.”
“Son of a bitch!” he hisses.
Pretty much.
“I thought you were keeping an eye on her?” I demand.
“I’ve only been in town for a week,” he snaps. “What the fuck do we do?”
“Nothing,” I answer. “She’s back, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Shit will hit the fan. We just have to be ready when it does.
ELEVEN
ANNABELLE
The man is infuriating. The moment I rushed out of the room and got into my car, I had to unbutton my blouse. I was sweating from his words.
“I’ll tie you up in a tight little ball, suspend you from the ceiling so that your cunt, mouth, and ass are easily on display for me to fuck.”
Goddamn! I have my air conditioner on full blast, trying to cool down.
“Once I’m done violating you, I’ll sit down, have a smoke while I let you hang there, and watch my cum leak from your stretched-out and overused holes like the worthless whore you’re meant to be.”
My hips rock back and forth in the driver’s seat, just imagining the picture he painted. Men like Haidyn don’t make threats. They’re promises.
Is it bad that I can’t stop thinking about it? He seemed on edge today. More than the past two times I’ve come for a session. It’s like he’s upped his game. He’s tired of me returning and wants to get rid of me. I don’t care what he says; I’m not walking away.
I killed a woman. I’ve taken a brand. I can sit there and listen to a few crude comments about how he wants to use my body. He’s a Lord after all. Sex is all they think about, and ever since I started seeing him, it’s all I think about too.
HAIDYN
