Robert rises slowly, setting his drink aside as he moves toward me. Elias steps in front of me, but he’s yanked back by two men and held in place a few feet away.
Robert eyes him with an amused glint in his eyes before he turns back to me.
My throat goes dry. Every instinct in me screams to turn and run, but my feet stay planted. At first, he doesn’t speak, he just looks me over the same way one might assess a new piece of art.
Everything the guys have told me about the way Robert has treated me flies through my mind, reminding me that sometimes blood isn’t thicker than water.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I lift my chin, push my shoulders back, and do my best to pretend I’m not scared of him.
I see the tiniest spark of surprise in his eyes before that stupid, amused look settles on his face again.
“It’s been a while, dear sister. I hope you’ve been well,” he says carefully, as if watching for my reaction.
“Much better since I left Arizona,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest as I try to look unfazed by his cold stare.
“Why did you run?” he asks, and just for a second, I feel my face scrunch in confusion before I try to hide it. I don’t want him to know how I’m feeling. He must have known I found out about his plans to sell me; there was camera footage of it, Elias had confirmed that.
When I don’t answer, he tilts his head, asking, “Did I not treat you well? Did I not give you the finest clothes, the freshest food, the best instructors?”
I remind myself that those clothes and food were actually forms of chains. “No,Robert.You treated me like your little doll. You dressed me up in the clothes you wanted me to wear, made me eat the food you picked out, and made me learn the things you chose. That’s not love, that’s possession,” I tell him, feeling proud of myself for getting that out.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were feeling ungrateful,” he says with the rise of an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by my little speech.
“What should I be grateful for?” I ask angrily.
“I put a roof over your head, a nice one at that. I clothed you, fed you, and I never laid a hand on you.”
“Not all abuse is physical,” I tell him, remembering what Dex told me weeks ago.
Robert stares at me a moment before turning to look at Elias. “Can’t say I expected to see you again. I was more surprised to find out you’ve been working for the FBI all these years.”
I frown, wondering how he knows that. Elias must think the same thing; his expression gives him away, making Robert smirk. “What? You didn’t think I’d do my research on the men in my sister’s lives?”
He looks back at me as he sighs. “Really, Wren, I thought I’d raised you better than to get involved with a bunch of criminals.”
“You’rethe criminal here!” I yell, taking a step toward him, but someone clamps a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. Elias struggles against the men holding him to no avail.
He presses his lips together, then turns away and walks back over to his abandoned drink, picking it up and downing the whole thing before turning back to me and holding out the glass.
“Get me a new one, Wren?”
My eyes dart to Elias before looking back at Robert. The hand on my shoulder releases me, and I slowly move forward. I take the glass from Robert then step over the drink cart and pick up the bottle of whiskey, I pour it just the way he likes it, neat, two fingers, then lift it up and drink the entire glass, slamming down the empty glass when I’m done, feeling proud of my defiance, even if my throat is burning from the liquid.
Robert narrows his eyes at me for a moment before his cool, calm demeanor returns. He lets out a long sigh before settling back in his chair.
“Very well, you’ve left me no choice. Maybe some time in the closet will remind you who’s in charge here.” My body goes rigid as he turns to the men behind me and waves a hand in dismissal. “Take her away.”
Two sets of arms grab me, and I scream, the thought of being trapped in a closet terrifying me to my core.
Elias tears himself from the grip of one of the men before shoving his elbow in the man’s nose, causing him to howl out in pain as blood pours from his face. Elias pulls a knifefrom somewhere that’s too fast for me to track, and within a single heartbeat, he turns and slits the man’s neck.
Before he can turn that knife on anyone else, three men tackle him to the ground as I’m dragged from the room, screaming at the top of my lungs.
“Elias! No! Don’t hurt him!”
“I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you," the man says as I’m dragged down the hall, kicking and screaming. I’m taken up a grand staircase and down the hall. I’m vaguely aware of a bedroom before a closet door opens, and I'm shoved inside, immediately losing my balance and falling on something hard, making me cry out in pain where it hits my hand and hip.
Before I can even look at what I landed on, the door is slammed shut. A band of light comes from under the door, offering me a small reprieve, but that’s short-lived when they shove a towel or something against it, blocking out all glimpses of light, and with it, any hope of remaining sane in my new prison.
