It’s been three days since I took Wendy from her home and stashed her in the basement of the JR. In that time, I’ve felt more emotion than the previous fifteen years combined. My nights are restless in a way they’ve never been before. Dreams of Ru rising from the grave and telling me how I’ve failed him keep me wide awake and frazzled.
Funny how he once stopped my nightmares, only to become them in the end. Life is always full circle, I suppose.
That combined with the continual disappearance of our crates, and my insides are wound tight, a live wire waiting to be tripped.
And Wendy… Wendy.
Well, it’s a shame it’s gotten to this point, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. I’ll still use her for the same purpose, only in the end, instead of allowing her to go free, I’ll make her watch as I drain the life from her father’s eyes.
And then I’ll do the same to her.
There’s a sharp ache in my chest at the thought, but I take another sip of brandy and let the burn of liquor numb the pain. The ice clinks in my glass as I set it down, and settle into my chair, watching Wendy on the cameras and twirling an invitation to tonight’s charity gala.
She’s cross-legged in the middle of the room, her eyes closed and hands on her legs, almost as if she’s in deep meditation.
Starkey sits across from me, and I lean forward, placing my elbows on the desk.
“Tell me again,” I say slowly. “Who went with Ru to his meeting.”
Starkey’s jaw is set, his light brown hair ruffling against his fingers as he combs through the strands. “Nobody.”
“Nobody,” I repeat.
He lifts a shoulder. “Didn’t even tell anyone he was going.”
Irritation snaps in my veins, paper crumpling under my fingers. “You’re sure?”
Starkey’s leg bounces against the floor, and my eyes dip down, tracking the movement. Annoyance flows through me like an untapped faucet, and I bite my cheek so hard copper floods my mouth.
“Ye—yeah, boss, I’m sure.”
A pounding forms between my eyes and I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Get out of my sight.”
“But we still have to—”
I shoot from my chair, picking up my knife and flinging it toward him, lodging it into the far wall. “I said leave.” My knuckles ache as they press into the wood of my desk, and I look down, breathing deeply to keep my temper at bay. “Before my aim improves.”
He leaves within seconds, the soft click of the door making my shoulders drop.
The heartbeat in my ears combined with the grinding of my teeth is a symphony of sound, accompanying the tornado of white-hot frustration whipping through my insides, so potent I can’t drown it out.
It’s been almost a week since Ru’s murder, and still I’m no closer to answers.
Shipments are going missing, Peter Michaels is doing everything to control my streets, and now I’m supposed to step into Ru’s shoes and take over officially as the boss.
A title I’ve never been interested in having.
Add on top of that the infuriating woman in my basement, and I feel like a blank jigsaw puzzle with a thousand scattered pieces.
Someone knocks on the office door and I heave a breath. “Come in.”
Curly walks through, his chin dipping in acknowledgment.
“Any new developments?” I ask.
He shakes his head, walking over to where Wendy sits in silence on the screen. “Nope. She pretty much just does that all the time.”
Glancing down at the invitation in my palm, an idea forms in my mind. After all, I know Peter will be there, he’s their guest of honor, and it’s the first time he’ll be in Massachusetts since the night of Ru’s death.
It’s time to show him what happens when you underestimate a monster. A thrill zips through me, lighting up my stomach and electrifying my veins at the thought of finally putting my plan into action.
And Wendy is going to help me do it. Whether she wants to or not.
“Miss me, darling?” I ask as I walk into the darkened room.
Wendy still sits in the center, her eyes closed and legs crossed. “Like a hole in the head,” she replies.
A chuckle bubbles up my throat, but I bite it back. Leaning against the wall, I watch her, my chest pulling tight as I take in the bruising on her wrists and the matted strands of her hair.
She peeks open an eye, then snaps it shut when she meets my gaze. “People are going to notice I’m gone, you know.”
I nod, placing my hands in my pockets. “I’m counting on it.”
Both of her eyes open at this, her stare locking on mine, sending a flash of heat through my abdomen.
“My father will come for me.”
I tilt my head. “Are you quite sure?”
She hesitates, her jaw tightening as she looks away. “Of course.”
“Right.” I straighten off the wall, walking toward her. “In any case, he won’t need to. We’re going to him.”
Her head snaps in my direction and she scrambles to her feet.
I continue my slow steps in her direction, and she stiffens, her feet moving backward as if she can break away. Her back hits the stone wall, and I walk into her body, my hips pressing against her, arms reaching up to cage her in. “Where do you think you could run to, Wendy, darling?” I move my palm from the wall, my fingers wrapping lightly around her neck. “Even if you were to escape this room, there’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t find you.”
She bares her teeth, her breathing shaky. “Get your hands off me.”
Her arm moves quickly, palm open and swinging toward my face. My stomach jumps as I grab her wrist before it hits, twisting until her body spins. She grunts as my torso pushes into her forcefully, my free hand pressing against the back of her head until her cheek is flush against the wall, her arm locked behind her, wedged between us.
I lean in, my chin resting on her shoulder. “I’m not a fan of repeating myself, so I suggest you listen close.”
She jerks her arm, her elbow grazing my stomach, and I tighten my grip. “I’m going to take you to my home, where I’ll allow you to shower and make yourself presentable.”
“You’re disgusting.”
My stomach twists. “That may be. But until I decide otherwise, I’m also your master.”
She scoffs, her body writhing against mine, causing blood to flow to my groin, my cock twitching. I smirk. “Do continue, sweetheart. I love it when you fight.”
Her body stiffens.
I release her, and she spins around, her eyes narrowed as she grips her wrist, her fingers massaging the red marks. A flare of concern trickles through my mind, but I bat it away. A little bruising won’t hurt near as bad as the wounds she’s caused. And in the end, it won’t matter once she’s dead.
“I have an event tonight,” I say. “And I’d like you to accompany me.”
She huffs out a laugh, but after a few seconds it quiets, her eyes widening. “You’re serious?”
“I am.”
“Go to hell,” she spits.
“Alright.” I pull my phone from my pocket, bringing it up to my ear.
“What are you—”
I hold up a finger, silencing her. “Hi, yes, Mrs. Henderson. It’s so nice to hear your voice. This is James Barrie.”
Wendy’s gasp sends a rush of satisfaction through my veins.
A grin breaks across my face and I wink. “Can you please let Headmaster Dixon know that I’ll be coming to pick up Jonathan Michaels?”
“You bastard.” Her voice is pinched, and my eyes glance to hers, a spike of something coasting through my chest.
I cover the mouthpiece with my hand, my brows raising. “Come again, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you.” I point to my phone. “Important business, you know.”
“I called you a bastard,” she hisses. Her palms press into her eyes, her head shaking. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just, please—”
The knot in my stomach loosens at her agreement, and I nod. “You know? Never mind, Mrs. Henderson, it appears my plans have changed. I do hope you have a wonderful day.”
I hang up, sliding the phone back in my pocket, and walk toward her. I stop when the tips of my shoes press against the bare skin of her toes. My fingers tilt up her chin. “I do regret that it’s come to this. It didn’t have to be this way. But we all have times in our lives where we must pick a side.”
Her brows furrow. “What? I—”
I run a finger down her jaw. “Unfortunately, you picked wrong.” I drop my hand from her face and turn toward the door. “I’ll be back soon. And it would do you well to remember what’s at stake.”
28
Wendy
My wrists are bound again, only this time they’re actual handcuffs instead of heavy shackles. I stare down at the metal, fingers twisting in my lap, before looking over at Curly in the driver’s side of the car. “You didn’t have to handcuff me. It’s not like I’ll run.”