Why had he done that?
Maybe his goal had only been to kill Father? Maybe they’d had some kind of falling out.
But he’d let me and Dante and Magnus go.
Oh God, Dante… he had to be going crazy with worry. How long had it even been since I’d been taken?
I looked at the single window in the room but the curtain was drawn. There was no light filtering in through it, so that meant it was probably still dark out.
Or darkagain.
God, why couldn’t I remember anything?
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked. My limbs felt heavy and before I could even consider the vulnerable position I was putting myself in, I slid my back down the wall and dropped to the floor. I drew my knees up against my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I was aware of Vaughn moving, but I was suddenly too tired to care. He’d do whatever he wanted. Better to let him get it over with.
Because there would be no rescue this time. Even once he got me back to Chicago, he or whoever he was delivering me to would make sure Dante could never find me again. When I’d first been taken as a child, they’d moved me around from place to place so many times I’d eventually lost count. All sense of time had been stolen from me until Brian had come and offered me a chance to go home.
And stupid kid that I’d been, I’d taken him up on it.
I’d been so damn good that I was sure I’d make my parents proud and they’d want me back.
“Here,” Vaughn said, and then a bottle of water was being put into my hands.
The words, “fuck you” were on the tip of my tongue, but I bit down on the flesh rather than speak them. I wasn’t someone who naturally swore, but even if I had been, it was against the rules.There were some habits I’d eventually managed to break in the two years I’d lived with my brother and his fiancé, but so many things were so ingrained that they’d become my new normal. I had no idea if I would have been someone who swore if I’d been allowed to be a regular kid, but it didn’t matter anyway.
I took the water and obediently drank a sip.
And gagged.
The water was fine, but my stomach was in such tight knots that the cold liquid made me feel all kinds of worse.
Who would have thought such a thing possible?
“Take a few bites of this,” Vaughn said as he handed me some kind of protein bar.
I wanted to say no, I really did. But he hadn’t been asking. He wasn’t the Vaughn who’d snuck butterscotch candies into my palm when no one was looking.
My body shivered as I remembered the little sparks I’d always feel when he touched me like that. I’d only ever felt those sparks around him.
I wasn’t sure what that meant.
But there were no sparks this time as I took the protein bar.
Thank God for small mercies.
Because being cold made it so much easier to deal with the bad stuff, and I always started with mentally reciting my most favorite flowers and their meanings. It was the first step in escaping into that pretty little place in my head where no one could touch me. Dante was there. The rest of my family too. It’d been a particularly brisk day, but we’d decided to go to the beach anyway and everyone, even Dante and my father, had seemed to get along. Dante and I had spent hours building the perfect sand castle and then had let our baby brother, Breno, destroy it. In that place I was warm and safe and happy. But to be warm, I had to be cold first.
And I’d never felt that around Vaughn.
Not even on that day when I’d first seen him in Father’s office. I’d tried to escape into my head long before I’d entered that study, but I hadn’t managed it in time and once I’d caught sight of the scary-looking dark-haired man sitting in the armchair, I’d beenmomentarily trapped in the present. It wasn’t until Father had snapped his fingers at me that my brain had thankfully turned off. The blackness had let me stay in its peaceful grip until one of Father’s men had taken me by the arm and led me back to my room. I’d tasted Father on my tongue and usually when that happened, it meant I was spared from the rest of it. Since Father never shared me with anyone, I hadn’t had to worry about Vaughn that particular day. I hadn’t even been sure I’d see him again.
But he’d been there a few days later and when one of Father’s men had let his hand linger on my body just a little too long, Vaughn had slammed the man back against the wall and informed him in no uncertain terms what would happen if he ever touched me like that again. I’d waited for him to add the caveat that I belonged to Father, but there’d been nothing else.
Just the singular threat to never touch me like that again.
And that was when it had happened.
That little something inside of me that kept me from seeking out the blackness whenever Vaughn was around.
