“I know.”
“Is there ever going to be a woman in my life who doesn’t break my heart?”
Aww shit, he’s going there. “You can’t blame Ellie for breaking your heart. We both knew the possible outcome when we took her.”
“I just can’t stand her being gone. It’s killing me.” His voice cracks as he buries his face in the crook of his arm and recoils into a ball.
“For now,” I assert. “She’s gone for now. That doesn’t mean she’ll be gone forever.”
“How can you possibly know that?” He raises his head and sniffs.
I roll my eyes. “Haven’t you learned yet? I know everything.”
Kayne actually chuckles. It’s a deranged sound, but at least he’s connecting with me on some coherent level.
We stare at each other for some time before I concede. It’s late, I’m tired, and he’s smashed.
“Come on, big man. Let’s get you home and cleaned up. You bled all over yourself.” Splattered red stains are covering his white shirt.
“Not my blood.” He grins up at me. “It’s the fucker’s who was stupid enough to fight me. He never got a shot in.”
“Then what happened to your lip?”
“Fell off the barstool.”
“You what?” Oh, for Christ’s sake, he can throw down in a bar fight, but he can’t take a damn leak.
“Let’s go.” I hold out my hand exasperated.
Kayne teeters a bit before his palm finally connects with mine. I haul him to his feet, and it feels like I’m pulling on a steel anchor. Once standing, I rest him against the car and manually unlock the doors. My 1966 Chevelle didn’t exactly come equipped with keyless entry. After I dump him in the front seat, I slide behind the wheel and start the engine. My red devil purrs to life, and I can’t help but think there’s only one other kind of hum that’s better than this car’s.
I glance over at Kayne; he looks green and is barely conscious. “Listen man, you puke in here, and I’m tossing you out while we’re still moving.”
Kayne smirks, his head bobbing all over the place as I pull away. In no time at all, he’s passed out and breathing loudly.
What am I going to do with his dumbass? He’s a wreck.
I can’t fault the guy completely for all his fuckedupness; he’s had a rough life. Abused, neglected, and cast aside; not to mention abandoned by the one person who was supposed to love him the most. It’s tragic, really. And then, when he finally gets one tiny flicker of happiness, what happens? It’s corrupted by evil and shrouded in darkness. Sometimes, you just can’t win for trying.
“Ellie,” Kayne moans miserably beside me while grabbing his crotch in his drunken sleep.
All I can do is shake my head.
Oy, what a fucking hot mess.
“NO MATTER WHERE YOU GOor who you’re with, you’ll always be mine.”His voice echoes in the darkness.“Mine, Ellie.”I hurl myself up out of a dead sleep, panting. My hair is sticking to my forehead from sweat, and my tank top is clinging to my chest. I catch my breath and remind myself it was only a dream.
Only a dream. Only a dream.
The tropical nighttime breeze flutters through the half-open window and cools my burning skin. I fall back down onto my pillow and try to banish the vision of majestic blue eyes haunting my mind. Not only his eyes—his voice, his scent, his words. “I’d much rather shower you with pleasure than torture you with pain . . . but I’ll do what I have to do to make you submit.”
It’s been a year since I left him—the man who abducted me, trained me, used me, owned me,deceivedme. A whole year since I found out I was free.
Immediately after I left Mansion, I was held in a safe house for three days. Jett stayed with me the whole time. He laid with me while I slept, held my hand while I was debriefed by a very shady man in a black suit threatening me with jail time if I divulged one word about the classified operation, and held me when I fell to pieces night after night. He was my sanity. Which is crazy, when you think about it. He was one-half of the duo who held me captive, forced me to submit, and conformed me into a slave. A sex slave. But no matter how low I felt, it was Jett who lifted me up. When the curtain fell, he was the only one I could trust. Warped as it may have been.
I look up at my apartment building. It looks exactly the same. Red brick and concrete stairs.
“Last stop on the crazy train,” Jett says grinning.
