The buckets clank against the floor, as the twins set them down by the men’s sides.
I walk forward, crouching in front of the one who spit, rage twisting my features into a wide grin. “Twins,” I say without breaking my stare from the man before me. “Would you mind bringing me our guests?”
“You got it, boss.” A fourth bucket appears, scratching sounds and squeaks coming from the inside.
“Do you hear that?” I cup my ear with my hand. “They sound excited.” Reaching inside the bin, I pick up a small, furry animal, its tail flicking against the sleeve of my suit. I bring it up to my face, staring at its small, beady eyes. “Probably on account of how hungry they are.” My gaze slides back to the pathetic traitor who’s chained to my wall. “After all, rats always know when they’re on the brink of death.”
I place the first rodent inside the bucket next to the man, before grabbing another one from the bin, and repeating the process, until there’s half a dozen there, scratching at the sides, attempting to escape.
The twins appear, handing me a long lighter before moving forward, picking up the bucket and flipping it upside down until it rests on the man’s stomach. They crouch down, their forearms resting along the rim, ensuring it stays in place.
The man squirms, no doubt feeling the rats skittering along his skin.
“Now,” I say. “I’m going to ask one more time nicely. Who gave you that tattoo?”
The man’s body shakes, pathetic whimpers leaving his mouth, but still he doesn’t speak.
“Very well. I do wish you had shown that type of loyalty to me, but I respect it all the same.” I flick on the lighter. “Do you know what happens when you starve a rat?” I ask, smiling at the pathetic waste of space. “They don’t generally need much food. But if you withhold for long enough, you’ll find that they become rather ravenous.”
The first scream pierces the air shortly after I put the flame to the bottom of the bucket, heating it from the outside in. I raise my voice to talk over the noise. “Add a little bit of heat, and they become frenzied in their need to escape.” I chuckle. “I think you’ll find they’re quite the survivalists. They’ll even take to chewing on flesh… and intestines… and bone.”
“Stop!” he screams, “Please! God! It was a wo-woman!”
I keep the flame lit, the bloodlust overtaking my brain until red seeps in the corner of my eyes, and my heart pumps out nothing but vengeance against all who dare to go against me.
“I already know it was a woman, you blithering fool. Tell me something useful before I let them eat you whole.”
But it’s too late, his eyes rolling back in his head, losing consciousness as the rats feast on his middle.
Sighing, I take away the flame and look to the other two chained-up fools. “Who’s next?” I smile, twirling the lighter between my fingers.
“The woman,” one of them rushes out. “She worked at the bar.”
My movements freeze, insides squeezing tight. “What bar?”
“Yours!” he cries. “The JR.”
I crack my neck, letting out a long, loud laugh, disbelief running through my veins. Because there’s no way this man is saying what I think he is. That the woman is not Tina Belle, nor is she a stranger. I rush over to him, my fingers gripping his jaw, my knife out in a flash, slicing against his cheek.
“Please,” he begs.
“Do not lie to me,” I demand. “Are you insinuating that someone has been taking advantage of my hospitality?” I ask, fire brimming behind my eyes. “What is her name?”
His body trembles beneath my grasp, his hiccups and heavy sobs making his words sputter.
“Tell me!” I spit, my knife pressing deeper, drips of his blood running down his face.
“Moira!” he cries. “Her name is Moira.”
43
Wendy
“Wendy?”
Relief flows through me when I hear Jon’s voice. I was in the shower, and when I got out and saw that I had missed his call, I started blowing him up until he answered, not wanting to do anything until I heard him speak.
“Jon, hi,” I breathe down the line. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“I miss you so much, my dude.” My voice cracks, the emotions from the past few weeks bubbling over. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to call until now.”
“Oh, it’s okay, James told me you were sick.”
My breath stalls. “Ja… what?”
“Yeah, he said that’s why he was calling to check on me instead. Listen, I really don’t need babysitters.”
My heart explodes in my chest, my mind racing at what he’s saying; at what that means.
“When did—” I clear my throat. “When did you talk to James?”
“Almost every freaking day since I’ve been here, Wendy. That’s what I’m trying to say. It’s a little overbearing.”
“He calls you?” My throat swells.
“Yeah, did you not know?”
My chest cracks wide open, tears rimming my lower lids. Even when he was threatening me, he was checking on Jon. Does that mean he was always bluffing?
“No, I knew,” I sniff. “I’ll let him know to back off.”
“Okay, thanks. Hey, you gonna be home tonight?”
My brows pull in, and I glance around. “Yeah, why?”
“Dad said he’s picking me up and to call and let you know.”
My stomach twists when I realize he’s talking about the mansion. “Dad’s coming to get you?” I repeat, unsure I heard him right.
“Yeah. Said there’s something he wants to tell us. I don’t know, but I don’t really want to be with him by myself.”
My loyalty splits in two, wanting to stay true to James, and knowing he wouldn’t want me anywhere near my dad, but also wanting to be there for Jon. And as much as I want to say no, wait for James to come home and pretend my dad doesn’t exist, I know I can’t. Not if it gives me a chance to see my brother. “Okay. I’ll head there now.”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” I repeat back, smiling as I hang up.
There’s a lightness floating through me from the anticipation of seeing him, even though guilt wraps around my middle, knowing James will hate that I’m there. But hopefully, he’ll be able to see things from my point of view.
I was feeling off all morning. I told James I loved him, and he couldn’t say it back. Not that I was expecting it, but still, when you lay out your emotions, it hurts when they aren’t returned. But him checking in on Jon, even while he was spinning a different tale to me? That means more than any words ever could. I pull up James’s number on my phone and dial, my heart swelling with gratitude for what he’s done. I want him to know that I know, and I also want to tell him where I’ll be. He won’t be happy, but he promised not to control my life.
I’m not a hostage anymore, and I won’t let him tell me who I can and can’t see.
His phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t answer. I frown, trying to dispel the unease the trickles into my gut. I leave him a message and then send a text, just in case, and blow out a breath, brushing off the anxiety.
An hour later, I’m pulling James’s Audi into the mansion’s drive, and being stopped at the gates.
My brows draw in at the new, extensive security features that line the perimeter. Four men are stationed on the outside and one walks up to my window, knocking on the glass.
I roll it down, confusion spiraling through me. “Uhh… Hi. I’m Wendy.”
His brow raises.
“Peter’s daughter? He’s probably expecting me.”
The man doesn’t speak, just nods and walks away, whispering into another guy’s ear before they open the gates and let me through.
What the hell?
Nerves snap and crackle beneath my skin, like ants scurrying through my veins. I’m so disgusted with my father I can hardly see straight. Not that I’m the gatekeeper on morals, after all, I’m in love with a man whose morals are severely lacking at best. But at least he owns who he is. My father puts on a show, fooling the masses.
Fooling me.
I park my car and walk up the brick walkway, opening the front door and making my way inside. It’s eerily quiet, and my stomach tenses with nerves.
“Jonathan? Dad?” My voice echoes off the high ceilings in the foyer, but nobody responds.
Odd.
I walk into the formal living room, pulling out my phone to bring up Jon’s number.
“You came.”
The voice shocks me, and I spin, my phone flying across the room, cracking as it hits the floor. My hand shoots to my chest, my heart banging underneath my palm. “Jesus, Tina. You scared me.”
Tina smiles, walking into the room until she’s only a few steps away. “Sorry.”
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, glancing around. “Is he picking up Jon?”
Her eyes are slightly unfocused, her pupils round and dilated as she grins.
“Tina.” I wave my hand in front of her face.