Empty. Empty. Empty.
Growling, I slam the final drawer shut and turn back to face the room. I don’t get the chance to do anything else before the telltale sound of the door unlocking momentarily freezes me in place. I must look like a deer caught in headlights as my worst living nightmare strides into the room. His every step is filled with arrogant confidence, and his unfaltering smirk as his gaze roams over me shows just how sure he is that Bowen has broken me.
I swallow around the lump in my throat, watching him while he takes me in. His gaze slowly lifts until he meets my eyes, and the dark smile on his face grows wider.
“I brought you a present.” Lifting his arm, there’s a small bag dangling from his index finger, with the brand name of a designer clothing store; the same store he brings me dresses from every time he visits.
When I don’t move to take it, he walks over and sets it on the small kitchen table. He pushes it toward me, quirking a brow. “Aren’t you going to have a look inside?”
I hesitate for a second before slowly approaching the table. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end with every step I take closer to him, and I watch him intently, alert for any sudden movement.
Without removing my gaze from his, I lift out the dress and set it on the table.
“You should try it on.”
It’s not a request, but for the first time, I don’t obey him. I think he might be right; I think the last few weeks here have broken me, just not in the way he wanted it to.
Even though sweat coats my palms and makes my top stick to me, I say, “You forgot the heels.”
Instead of angering him, my snark makes his sleazy smile deepen. “I’ve got a matching pair for you...when you're ready to come home.”
Goosebumps pebble my skin and I have to fight back a shiver at the thought of calling anywhere I’d have to live with him home.
In the next second, the smile drops off his face, and the way he looks at me—like I’m nothing more than a possession, someone to control and manipulate, is even more terrifying than his sleazy leer.
“Put. It. On.” His words are sharper this time, leaving no room for argument. I clench my fist at my side as I try to stop the trembling in my hands. Licking my dry lips, I wrap my sweaty palm around the edge of my shirt, and with one final strengthening breath, I quickly whip it off over my head, ignoring the fact I’m exposing myself to this fucking asshole.
I quickly shrug off the pants, mourning their loss after only getting to wear them for such a short period of time, before I snatch up the dress and hastily pull it on. It falls to just above my knees, with a small slit up the back of the skirt. It hugs my chest, pushing up my tits in a disgustingly inviting way, and I swear, if I ever get out of here, I’m never wearing anything but pants ever again.
Stepping toward me, he reaches out a hand to fix my still-damp hair over my shoulder. I flinch, and a satisfied gleam ignites in his eyes.
Come on, Hadley, you don’t need to be afraid of this asshole and his pathetic dick. I take a fortifying breath, telling myself, not for the first time, that I’m stronger than him. The words have never made a difference before, but it doesn’t stop me from reciting them over and over in my head.
“Have you had fun the last few weeks?” he asks, knowing damn well what I have had to endure. At least he’s confirmed my suspicions that I’ve been here for some time. I wonder how long it’s been since the guys showed up. Surely, no more than a few days. They wouldn’t have left me in here any longer than necessary. They have to be coming soon—any day now. But there’s not going to be anything left of me if I let Lawrence have his way tonight.
“Wh—why me?” I ask, stuttering out the words as my palms sweat. I’m not even sure I care why he stole me. The why of it doesn’t matter; it won’t change anything, but I need to stall for time, because I see the sick intent in his eyes and it terrifies me more than anything else I’ve had to face within these concrete walls.
His face pinches, and his hand that was playing with my hair freezes. He doesn’t say anything and I brace myself for the slap or sharp tug on my hair that I’m pretty sure is coming. As his brown eyes darken in anger, I regret saying anything at all, and my chest rises and falls rapidly as I wait for whatever punishment he decides to dole out.
He unwraps the curl of hair from around his finger, and I flinch as he raises his hand, but instead of hitting me, he runs his palm down the length of my blonde hair.
“Did you know your mother and I used to date?”
My eyes widen in surprise. Not at the fact I don’t know something about my mother—I know next to nothing about her—but at the fact she would ever date someone like him. To me, he looks like a monster, but then, as I’ve said before, if you didn’t know him like I do, didn’t hate him as vehemently as I do, you’d probably think he was attractive. He’s got Cam’s good looks, but none of his charisma or generous heart. He might look stunning on the outside, but his core is rotten.
“We were going to get married.”
And the surprises just keep coming.
“Until your father”—he snarls out the word, spittle hitting my cheek as his face turns into the demonic thing I know all too well—“started taking an interest. One measly compliment from him and I was all but forgotten; kicked to the side so they could run off into the sunset together.”
His fingers grab hold of my hair as his anger skyrockets, squeezing the strands in his fist and inadvertently tugging on the roots, making me wince—not that he seems to notice, or care, too lost in his past to see me standing right in front of him.
“Then you and Hawk came along, and they had the picture perfect family.” His lip curls up as he sneers. “Meanwhile, the pathetic excuse of a woman I was forced to marry gave me an idiot son who only cares about chasing girls and swimming.”
My own temper flares at his demeaning words. He’s got no idea just how capable his son is. Cam is the top swimmer in the region, and he’s got his national meet coming up soon, and I know he’s going to ace that too. Beyond his swimming achievements, Cam is smart—when he applies himself—and more importantly, he’s kind and loyal. He’s got something his father will never understand—integrity.
As quickly as my anger ignites, it’s washed out in fear as his hand wraps around my throat, and I stare into eyes overflowing with fury.
“What was it that made you spread your legs for him? Are you so stupid that you fell for his fake charm, like every other slut in that school?”
My eyes bulge as he squeezes my throat. I can feel my pulse hammering against the skin at the base of my neck, and my breaths come in quick, frantic pants.