CHAPTER 21

 

Hallie is curled up on the bed, her small frame shaking under her sobs. Her underwear was torn off and tossed carelessly on the floor. Napoleon must have cut the ropes she was tied with before he left. Her wrists are burned and raw, but not cut like mine from the cable ties.

I carefully slide the blindfold off her eyes, but she still shrieks, her body almost convulsing with fear until she realizes it’s me. I notice the blood streaks on the mattress and bile rises in my throat. For a moment, I almost burst out crying, but I have to stay strong for her. She must feel incredibly dirty; I need to get her out of the bed and into the bathroom.

She allows me to guide her, her eyes staring vacantly into the distance. Half her face is beginning to swell, her lip bleeding from a nasty cut. There are red spots all over her body which will turn blue in a few hours. She whimpers with every step she takes, and I drape a blanket over her shoulders so that Jed won’t get an eyeful of her nakedness.

My arm slides around her waist, supporting her while she stumbles down the steps. Once she slips and I almost drop her, but my fingernails dig into the rail at the last second. Pain throbs through my shoulder and robs me of my breath when my arm is almost pulled from its socket.

Jed is gazing up and opens his mouth, probably to offer his help, but I just shake my head. A male voice, no matter how gentle, will scare her and make matters worse. Obediently, he steps aside when we get to the bottom of the stairs—one wrong move or word and he will feel my knee in his groin. I’m done playing, even if that means he’ll beat the crap out of me.

I lead Hallie into the bathroom and turn on the shower, ensuring that the water is warm but not too hot before allowing her to step into the tub. Mechanically, she applies soap to her skin, silent tears streaming down her face. Every move is robotic. No sound passes her lips and her eyes are totally blank.

I decide to give her some privacy and step into the kitchen after sliding into a bathrobe that is hanging on a hook by the door.

Jed stares at me with big round eyes. “How is she holding up?”

It takes all my effort not to slap him across the face. “What do you think?”

Walking over to the sink, I pour myself a glass of water, letting the cool liquid run down my raw throat before playing around with it in my mouth. My head throbs, and every time I move, my bleeding wrists and ankles shoot pain waves up my arms and legs. I glare at the inside of the glass, my thumb running over the rim. Anger, stronger than I’ve felt in a long time, takes a grip of me, a vicious devil hacking at my frayed nerves until they finally tear apart. With one swift move, I throw the glass against the wall with all my might.

“You fucking knew this was going to happen, didn’t you!” My eyes burn into Jed’s skull when he drops his gaze. If I had a gun, I would shoot him right in the center of that forehead.

“I didn’t want him to touch you.” His words are low and he pulls his head in between his shoulders like Luke used to do when he was little and scolded by his dad.

“So you set Hallie up?” My voice trembles with fury. “I mean, you made sure she was tied up and blindfolded, all ready for Napoleon when he decided I wasn’t worth his effort.”

His eye twitches under my glare. “Look, honeybun, your words really hit home when you said that I was a coward for letting someone else touch you.” He gives me a pleading look. “I really like you and I couldn’t stand the thought that he would rough you up. I knew he would turn away when you were submissive and didn’t fight him—that’s the kind of person he is.” A slight blush colors his cheeks. “He joked once that he can’t get off unless a girl struggles and he can hurt her.”

What kind of sick bastard is Napoleon? With disgust, I turn my back on Jed, squatting down next to the shards of glass. With careful fingers, I reach to pick them up, but he is by my side before I can even touch the first piece.

“Let me get that for you.”

I realize he’s afraid that I will use the broken glass to cut myself though the thought hasn’t even occurred to me. I’m doing well on that front. Hallie might be struggling, though, and I will need to keep an eye on her. I don’t want her to fall into the same trap and repeat my mistakes.

With my back leaning against the wall, I hug my knees and watch Jed while he sweeps up the glass with a dustpan.

“You’re really mad, aren’t you?” he asks when he pours the leftovers in the bin.

Mad is the understatement of the century. “How could you do this to Hallie? She was still a virgin and it’s her birthday.” Not that it would have been any better on another day—losing one’s innocence through rape is traumatic under any circumstance.

“I’ll make it up to her, I promise,” he mutters.

I gasp at his ignorance. “And how are you going to do that, Jed?” My eyes are challenging. “Get her a puppy?” My gaze wanders to Maisie, who is curled up on the chair, sleeping. “But let me tell you—whatever it is you’re planning to do, you can never replace what Napoleon stole from her today.”

His face twists like he was just punched in his stomach. “Don’t you think I know that?” He tears the lid off the kettle with a sigh, filling it with fresh water.

I rest my chin on my knees, my glare stalking him as he walks over to the stove to heat the water. “I hope you feel like crap.”

He slams the kettle down. “I already apologized to you a thousand times, so what more do you want?” His eyes have turned three shades darker, the vein on his forehead pulsing on his skull. With his outstretched finger, he points at the bathroom door. “I could’ve never saved her. If it didn’t happen today, it would’ve been tomorrow or the next day. Napoleon never intended to spare her. It was just a game for him to see how far you were willing to go.”

My jaw drops. “So it was never about me then? He wanted Hallie from the start.”

Jed shakes his head. “No, it was about you alright. Napoleon is obsessed with you, always has been, but he likes the old Kelsey. The one who screamed and tried to fight him. He called you a wildcat he wanted to tame, but then you turned into this sulky girl who lost all her fire. That’s when he brought me back to Stonehenge to help him shake things up a little.”

The pieces finally fall into place. Napoleon’s plan for me to fight back after Jed returned to my life backfired when I once again assumed the victim rule and mutilated myself to a point where I was admitted to the hospital. Then he probed and tortured me until I finally bared my fangs. Yet Hallie’s virginity was the cherry on top—the one thing he couldn’t resist. He’s a despicable excuse of a human being and the mere thought that I actually know him sends chills down my spine.

Jed opens a cabinet and tosses a medicine bottle my way. “Take two and break them into powder. There’s a butter knife in the sink you can use.”

I look at the pack, but it’s not labeled. “What are they?”

“Sleeping pills. I’ll mix them with Hallie’s tea. It will help her sleep and forget.”

He really has no clue how rape works. The nightmares will still haunt her, even if she takes a whole bottle of that stuff. Since I don’t feel like arguing with him, I take the knife out of the sink, my thumb testing the blade to ascertain whether it could be used as a weapon. It’s duller than my fingernail.

I pour the tablets in my hand and let two of them roll onto the counter when an idea strikes. My eyes dart to Jed who is busy adding sugar to Hallie’s tea. Two more pills disappear in the pocket of my bathrobe. With vigor, I begin to beat on the tablets on the counter with the handle of the knife until they turn into a fine powder. I catch the medicine with my open hand to add to Hallie’s tea.

“Can Hallie stay with me tonight?” I ask Jed while he stirs the tea.

“I guess that’s the least I can do.”

I get on my tiptoes and brush a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

His eyebrows quirk. “What was that for? I thought you wanted to kill me.”

“You explained to me how Napoleon ticks and there is no way you could’ve prevented Hallie from being raped. It’s just something I have to accept.”

There is huge relief on his face when I take the tea out of his hand. He is totally oblivious that I’m only stringing him along, already planning my next escape. Once he gets a literal taste of his own medicine, I can get the keys, Hallie, and Maisie, and then it will be “hasta la vista, baby”— until the cops arrest his ass.

Back in the bathroom, I help Hallie out of the tub and wrap her in a large fluffy towel. Her skin is reddened from all the scrubbing, but I know she still feels dirty and cheap. Her right eye is almost swollen shut and she has a fat lip, though the bleeding has stopped.

I run a brush through her hair. Her eyes are a little bit more alert. She hisses when her curls get entangled and I have to pull hard. After a few minutes, all the knots are out. I give her a cold cloth for her eye.

“Tell Jed you liked the tea,” I say, pouring the contents of the cup into the sink. “Then yawn and claim you’re sleepy.”

She considers me with big eyes, then nods. With her gaze glued to the floor, she toddles behind me into the kitchen.

I set the empty cup into the sink.

“Was the tea okay?” Jed asked, giving Hallie a good once-over.

She stands frozen by the counter and stares at him, her lips trembling. Fresh tears pool in her eyes—she is about to lose it.

I quickly intervene before she gets us both into a sticky situation. “I’ll take Hallie to bed now.” I glance at the cup. “Could you maybe make me some tea as well?”

He beams at me. “Sure, honeybun.”

Guiding Hallie by her shoulders toward the bedroom, she takes automatic steps forward. When we get to our destination, I rummage for sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, setting a pair of woolly socks aside.

“Put these on and get into bed. Pretend to sleep until I get you.”

Like a well-trained dog, she obliges my every command. When she is securely tucked into bed, I return into the kitchen after switching off the lights. I can just hope she stays put or this could ruin my plan.

The kettle is just boiling and Jed pours the hot water into a fresh cup. The scent of mint fills the kitchen, making my stomach rumble. Since breakfast, I haven’t eaten anything, my guts too knotted in anticipation of Napoleon’s visit. My nerves are still shot, but my body demands fuel. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl, taking a big bite. “Aren’t you going to have tea?”

Jed takes out the whiskey bottle and a tumbler. “I need something stronger. It was a rough night for me, too.”

I almost shed tears—both of sarcasm and joy. The alcohol will work better with the sleeping pills and knock him out even quicker. Now I just need to find a way to distract him.

On cue, Maisie raises her head and whimpers.

“I think she needs to go to the bathroom.”

Jed stretches. “I’ll take her. I need a smoke anyhow.”

He takes the keys to the front door out of his pocket and clicks his tongue a few times to get her attention. Maisie jumps down from the chair and shakes herself, her ears flopping from side to side. She really is the cutest pup.

Jed fumbles forever with the locks. My fingers drum on the counter and the ticking clock on the wall is driving me nuts, every fiber of my body on high alert. I will only have a few minutes. As soon as the door closes behind him, I spring into action, pulling the two sleeping pills from my pocket. The knife is no longer in the sink and I let out a small curse. Why are all the odds stacked against me tonight? My eyes dart around, trying to find anything that could be used to crush the tablets, but Jed has cleaned up and locked everything away.

In the end, I go for the tumbler. With shaking hands, I pour the whiskey back into the bottle, spilling half of it before slamming the pills with the glass. The booming thump scares me half to death. I still, my ears pricked for any sound from the outside, but only the howling wind rattles angrily at the shutters.

This won’t work. I have to somehow muffle the sound. My eyes find the towels on the rack. I grab one, laying it over the medicine. The sound of the banging glass is now hardly audible. I work quickly, my gaze fixed on the door. Jed could be back at any second.

The pills are finally crushed and I sweep the powder into the glass. A good amount of whiskey is poured on top to make sure the taste is not noticeable. My hands fly while I wipe the remains of the powder and the spilled whiskey off the counter before tossing the towel into the laundry basket. With a small hop, I get back onto my bar stool—just in time.

The door opens and Jed steps back in, his hair soaked. Maisie is in a similar condition, shaking herself and sending little water droplets flying.

“It’s miserable out there,” Jed says. “The snow has turned into freezing rain. The rate it’s going, we’ll have a major ice storm tonight. I should get the generator ready just in case the power lines are knocked down.”

An ice storm could seriously hamper our escape options. If we don’t take the van, we could freeze to death from hypothermia, yet the roads will be treacherous. Black ice will cover them within minutes, especially in a rural place like Tacoma Lakes.

I’m still tossing around different options in my mind when Jed brushes past me, his fingers briefly grazing my cheek. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping the disgust won’t show on my face. He takes a good swallow from his whiskey before his face contorts into a grimace.

“Yuk.” He sniffs the drink. “I think I didn’t rinse out the glass properly—this tastes like dish soap.”

I drop my gaze when my cheeks begin to burn, cursing this new streak of bad luck. I never expected that his palate could pick up the taste of the pills that easily. To my horror, he pours the rest of the whiskey into the sink, the brown liquid twirling around the drain before disappearing into the pipe.

“Jed.”

His head snaps around to look at me.

Somehow I need to keep his attention away from the sink. “I—I . . .” My mind is wiped of all thoughts—the only thing my brain registers is the residue of the powder which is clearly visible in the streaks of the whiskey that were left behind. If Jed notices them, he will immediately figure out that I tried to knock him out.

“Could you . . .” I start again.

A sweet smile plays on his lips. “Yes, honeybun?” He wiggles his brows, looking at me expectantly.

I hold my breath—my mind totally failing me. There is not even a hint of a useful idea to hide my sabotage attempt. Disaster is approaching fast and will hit me with the force of a bulldozer.

That’s when his gaze turns back to the sink.