I can’t believe I trusted him.
Helped him.
Now I’m exactly where he promised I’d never end up again.
Under my father’s thumb.
“Are you ready to tell me what you know, my darling sister?”
Disgust curls my blue-tinged lips at his use of that word.Sister.Is that how he still sees me? Sick fuck. His eyes narrowat my silence, the same silence I’ve given him day after day since waking up in this hellhole.
He’s like a broken record of “It’s a Small World,” playing on repeat ever since the doctor signed off that my body could handle more abuse.
But it doesn’t matter. What he does. What he threatens. I’ll never betray Matthias. Never.
“Tell me what you know!”
My body flinches at his nearness. Spit from his mouth hits my face, bile rising in my throat as he screams useless threats at me. If he kills me, he loses leverage.
Archer shifts beside me, his grip tightening, almost protectively. I shake the thought away. No fantasies. Not anymore.
“The sky is blue. Your shirt looks like something out of a bad Miami Vice rerun, and you desperately need to rediscover a toothbrush.”
There.
I tell him something.
Next to me, Archer swears under his breath, too low for Christian to hear. I brace for the pain I know is coming.
Christian rages, his face purpling as he snatches a fistful of my hair, hauling me back to the tub. I suck in a huge breath before he plunges my head beneath the icy surface. This time I’m ready, forcing myself not to panic. Not to fight. I hold out until my body betrays me, jerking involuntarily. The edge of the tub digs into my stomach, making it harder to ration my air. Dots dance behind my closed lids as I fight off unconsciousness.
Someone’s yelling. Not Archer. Another voice, thick with rage. The words are muffled, muted by water, but one sentence cuts through:
You need her.
That’s all it takes. Christian flings me out of the tub. A scream rips from me as the rough cement tears at my raw skin. Pain spirals through me as I cough and sputter.
“I’m not going to be patient forever, Avaleigh.” Christian crouches in front of me, tenderly brushing wet strands of hair from my face. His touch makes my stomach roll. “You’ll tell me what you know sooner or later, or I’ll get more…personal. Maleah didn’t enjoy it, but I did. You remember that, right?”
“Where is she, you fucking bastard?” I spit at him. His hand whips out, closing tight around the back of my neck, dragging me forward until we’re face-to-face.
“What did you do with Maleah?”
“Be careful, sister,” he growls, his breath sour, bile clawing at my throat. “My patience is wearing thin.”
“I. Am. Not. Your. Fucking. Sister.” Each word comes out venomous despite the rasp in my lungs. “You sick, psychotic fuck.”
His sneer twists into a Cheshire grin, his cognac eyes lighting with excitement that terrifies me more than his snarl.
“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.” He lets go, brushing dirt from his trousers. “As for Maleah, only my father knew where she was. And he’s dead.”
“What?”
Was that true? Elias dead? If so, why am I here? What does Christian want with me?
“You didn’t tell her?” a voice cuts in from the doorway. A third voice. The one who yelled for him to stop my near-drowning.
Neil.
