“Jenny, my Jenny,” Roy says. “It’s been so long.”
Fury tears through her. This is her house, her life, and Roy is still trying to take it from her.
Goddamn him.
“Oh, Jenny. You left me. And my Jennys don’t leave. Only I make my Jennys leave. Only I let you go.”
“You’re a monster,” Sal shoots back. Her heart flutters in her chest, damn near ready to stop. But she’s not. She pulls her hands to fists. “And I’m not your goddamn Jenny.”
She swings, hard enough to connect with his jaw. It’s not much, but it knocks Roy off-balance.
It gives her a minute. Barely.
Sal darts for the hallway. For the shotgun.
He’s on her fast.
Before Sal can shout for help, warn Luke, Roy rushes up behind her. He wraps one arm around her midsection, trapping her to him, and sticks the knife to her throat. “Precious Jenny, you just never learn, do you?”
Sal freezes, her breath hitching in her chest. Her stomach contracts as every muscle in her body aches to be free. To fight. But she barely dares to move, the tip of the knife so close to her jugular that one slip could end her.
Roy laughs—a terrible and cold sound that churns her stomach. He begins to pull her back into the kitchen, her bare feet dragging the floor. “After everything I’ve done for you, nursing you back to health, keeping you safe and protected, this is how you repay me?” Roy snarls. “I had rules, Jenny, and you broke them. I have to teach you a lesson.”
Sal looks past him, toward the doorway, the stairs, where any second Luke’ll be down to see why she hasn’t come back to him yet.
God, no, please, no—
She has to act fast. Do something, anything.
“Mother always says if someone won’t let you love them, you keep them. And if you can’t keep them, you kill them, Jenny.” His breath slops hot against her ear and Sal shudders. “It’s the only way they’ll feel your love.”
An idea screams at her.
One that tells her to meet madness with madness.
“Do it, then,” Sal says quietly, matching Roy’s unruffled voice with her own. “Show me how much you love me, Roy.”
Surprised by her words, Roy blinks, the knife bobbing in his hand. For a long second, it pulls back from her throat, and Sal sees her chance.
Craning her neck to look up at him, she meets his burning stare. “Well? What’re you waiting for? You love me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Roy says, licking his lips. “Yes.” His hand trembles, the knife rearing back to take aim, and that’s when Sal attacks. She wrenches her body roughly from his and drives her elbow down hard into his stomach.
The knife clatters to the floor.
Roy lets out a roar, betrayal burning bright in his dark eyes.
Sal screams at the top of her lungs and lunges for the hallway, but she’s too late. Roy wraps a hand in her hair and jerks roughly. Her head snaps back, her brain whiplashing in her skull.
Before she can regain her bearings, he shoves her against the wall, holding her in place by pressing his beefy body against her.
Then Roy’s monstrous hand covers her mouth, her nose.
Panic grips Sal. She writhes, jerking under his grip to be free. To breathe.
Her hands grasp at Roy’s, struggling to pull them away, and failing.
With greasy fingers, he roughly caresses her face, her hair. His hot breath singes her cheek. “No more chances, Jenny. No more.”