Still, if I don’t get away now, he is going to hurt me beyond repair. I have to try, no matter what the outcome.
Getting on my knees, I pretend I’m getting ready to suck his dick, reaching for his zipper. Instead of opening his fly, I ball my hand into a fist and slam it into his crotch with all the strength I can muster up.
His pained scream echoes through the house as I jump up and dash away as fast as I can. I don’t care about being half-naked and barefoot. All I want is to get away. There is no such thing as shame when you’re trying to survive.
My feet pound against the pristine tiled floor in the hallway. My legs push me forward as I make it around the corner, where I know the front door is. Only I don’t run into the foyer like I hoped. Instead, I run into another person.
“Shit!” He groans, his strong hands wrapping around my upper arms to steady me.
“Please help me!” I beg, gasping for air. My whole body is shaking, my knees weak, and the pain from the punishment that was momentarily numb returns with a vengeance. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
I blink back tears and get a good look at the guy in front of me. He seems to be my age, maybe a little older. His dark hair is messy, and his eyes look sleepy like he just woke.
“Did my father bring you here?” Only then do I realize the resemblance to the man who did this to me. This is his son. Oh, god. “What did you do?”
“He hurt me. I… I punched him… in the… you know.”
“Dick?”
I only manage to nod. A grin spreads over the stranger’s face. “He is going to make you pay for that.” My shaking intensifies. “But I could help you. I could bring you to my room and keep you safe.”
“You would?”
“Yup.” He nods. He shifts his hold on me, wrapping his arms around my waist, so I can lean against his side. “I’ll do something for you, and you’ll do something for me.”
I’m scared to ask what exactly he expects from me, but somehow, I doubt it will be worse than what his father was going to do to me.
“I guess if you don’t have the balls to do it, you don’t.” Preston’s demeaning voice drags me back to reality.
Feeling the deep need to resolve some of his disappointment, I say, “I’ll help if I can. Like, if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you, I’ll do it. I just don’t think I could actually do the deed itself.”
“Hmm. Now that you mention it, that’s not a bad idea. Even if you can’t kill her, you could make it possible for somebody else to do it. That would work.”
“Great. Whatever you need, I’ll get it done.”
My hand tightens around the phone until it hurts. She took Nash away from me, and now she gets to walk around like she owns the place while I have to live locked in a guest room.
“Okay. Make sure you’re careful with the phone. Don’t let anybody see you with it. I’m not sure I could manage to get you another if you get caught with it.”
“I won’t.” For now, it will live along with the scissors hidden under the mattress.
“And I’ll have Marcel let you know if I need to talk to you.”
“That works. I’ve got to go,” I whisper into the phone.
Preston doesn’t respond, and a moment later, the line goes dead. I do the same thing and end the call, which is good since the door opens and the shuffling of feet and laughter filter into the space.
I’ll wait here until they leave. I don’t trust myself to go out there right now, anyway. If I ran into Aspen, I might have to pull every hair out of her head and shove it down her throat until she choked on it.
The longer I think about it, the more convinced I become. I’ll do whatever it is Preston needs.
Aspen must die. There is no other way.