“Jesus fucking Christ, Prey. They told me you were smart.”
“Stop calling me that,” I hissed.
He chuckled and patted my knee. “The day you get to tell me what to do is not today.”
I took a breath to control myself, reminding myself of what happened the last time I’d made him angry. I still carried those bruises.
Bo moved his palm higher, rubbing my thigh. I hated the growing familiarity of his touch. “As long as you’re stuck in this smelly room,Ialso need to be here.”
“You don’t have to be here.”
“Sure, I do. I’m responsible for your ass.”
“Then you’re doing a horrible job.”
He laughed. “Why’s that? You want me to hug you and whisper empty promises? I ain’t Eliot.”
The mention of his name hit harder than a kick, making the fresh food in my stomach swirl. “I want to speak with him.”
“He knows where you are, Prey. Nothing’s stopping him from coming here.”
Since the moment I woke up in this place, dazed and terrified, I refused to accept Eliot’s betrayal, refused to believe that the man I’d trusted so profoundly had manipulated me from the moment we met. No one could be so evil, and the Eliot I knewwas a good person. For a few wonderful hours, I believed that our friendship was turning into something more.
“Are you crying again?”
I wiped my eyes. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Nope, but what Icando is tell you that slowly killing yourself in here is a shitty way to go. If you want to give up, just say the word, and I’ll smash your head against the wall. It won’t be pretty, but it will be over in less than a minute.”
I shivered at the thought of dying in this filthy room, believing that Bo would do it in a heartbeat. I looked down at my pale skin, decorated with bruises and little cuts, my ribs standing out. I was fading more with every passing day, and I had nothing to show for it.
This is not how I survive this.
“When does he want me?” I asked, forcing the words out.
“He’s waiting for you right now.”
I leaned my head back against the stone wall, soaking in the feeling of defeat. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
Bo rose to his feet and offered me his hand. “Good boy, Prey. Let’s make you a star.”
*
The three-man crew was already down in the dungeon, checking on the filming equipment. They had all seen me fight, beg, and suffer, yet none of them tried to help.
The dungeon was one floor beneath the estate, the air cold and stale between the brick walls. The “set” was at the end of the wide, eerie space, where they kept the different tortureequipment. A leather sling hung from the ceiling next to a wide bed.
“Hey, come here.” Amanda signaled me over to the makeup station. I sat in front of the mirror, startled to see my reflection. My skin looked ashy, my cheeks sunken, and my eyes were hollow with dark circles beneath them. If I had been reduced to this after a couple of weeks, I dreaded what could happen in two months.
“Do something about his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept a week.”
Through the mirror, I watched a man approaching. He was muscular, his skin glimmering with some sort of oil. Spider tattoos decorated his torso.
“Sure thing, Master Derek!” Amanda chirped.
“So, you’re Jonah.” He leaned down, his square jaw hovering above my right shoulder. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you.” He lowered his voice. “They say you like to play hard to get. I can’t wait to see that.”
I swallowed. “I won’t play hard to get.”
