I stiffen. Did Kashton leave marks? I mean, I’m covered in bruises, but that’s nothing new. Fighting off grown men will leave evidence. “Your concern isn’t needed. Leave.”
“You know he’s going to be a problem, right?”
I want to ask who theheis he’s talking about exactly, but I don’t. If I ask that, then he’ll definitely know I don’t have anything under control.
“You can’t fuck your way out of this, Eve.”
He’s got to be talking about Kashton; no way is he referring to Adam. “Maybe I should try it. Always seems to work for the Lords.” Sex is their answer to everything.
He grabs my upper arm and spins me around, forcing me to face the counter. He slides my hair off my shoulder and gently twists his fist around it, pulling my head to the side. I suck in a deep breath, and he pushes his body into my back and lowers his lips to my ear. “I need to release some tension. Bend over and spread your legs,” he whispers.
A sour taste fills my mouth. I want to blame it on the alcohol, but I know it’s from him touching me in such an intimate way. “I’m not into incest,” I tell him.
He chuckles, and when his free hand slides between my legs, I close my eyes and clench my thighs shut to keep him out. “You can act as tough as you want, Eve. But we both know you have no control over who fucks this cunt. I was the one who trained you, after all.”
Opening my eyes, I see a knife stabbed into the wooden block to my right. Close enough to…
I reach to grab it from the block to stab him, but he’s faster. He yanks me back from the counter with his fist still in my hair and shoves me away. I trip over my wobbly legs and fall so hard that I drop the knife, and he kicks it across the room.
I scramble to stand, my heart pounding, breathing erratic. He stands there staring at me with a vacant look in his eyes, though there’s a smile on his face. “You’re too predictable, Eve. That’s why he’d never fall for your shit.”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I shout.
“Do I need to remind you of where you came from? What you were made for?”
I swallow, trying to not lose my shit. That’s what he wants. A reason to drag me back to hell. No one escapes Dollhouse. Not to have the life that I do.
“No, sir,” I say, trying to sound appreciative. All Lords are the same. They want to be powerful.
That smile appears back on his face, and I feel nauseated. What he’s done to me. What I know he’s capable of. He is why I drink so much. It helps me forget what I wasn’t lucky enough to block out. Thankfully, he also talks a lot of shit. He may have trained me, but he’s never fucked me.
He steps into me, his hand cupping my chin, and I hold my breath as he leans down and gently kisses my forehead. “I’ll see you soon, sis.”
When I hear the door close, I close my eyes and fist my hands. The Lords are setting me up. It has to be them. They want to see me gone. I know too much. I knew this day would come.
I know Isabella and LeAnne.
I know about Dollhouse.
I know Adam is still alive.
I know a lot of secrets about others that they want to make sure don’t get out.
You’re nextwas carved into the woman’s body that was dropped where I spend most of my nights. It might as well have been a neon sign with my name on it.
The only question is, do I lie down and take it, or fight back? Either way requires me to spread my legs, because that’s all I have to give.
My doorbell rings, and I frown. I never have visitors, and if I do, they show up unannounced like the one I just had to fight off. I pick the knife up off the floor so I don’t step on or trip over it, making my way to the front door.
Yanking it open, I stare at a set of brown eyes. They widen when they get a look at my messy hair and half-dressed, bruised body. They drop to the knife in my hand, and he holds out a massive bouquet of flowers. It probably looks like I have a cheating boyfriend trying to apologize without having to say the actual wordsI’m sorry.
“Delivery.” He swallows nervously.
“From whom?” I ask but have an idea.
“Umm…there’s a card.” He shakes the black velvet hat box that’s full of red roses at me. I take it from his hands, trying not to stab him with my knife.
“Thanks.” I slam the front door shut, make my way back to the kitchen, return the knife to where it belongs, and rip the card from the flowers as I read the logo on the box. Venus et Fleur.
