Dalton ends the call and lets out a cackle as he comes toward me. Placing his hand tightly around my throat, he digs his fingers into my skin. I gasp, struggling to breathe as he closes my airway. I try shifting my body, fighting against the duct tape and his strength, but it’s no use. I’m in so much pain that I’m weak and exhausted. The smile never leaves from his face as everything seems to fade away.
“Sophie.” I hear Weston’s voice. No. Not possible. “I warned you. I meant it when I said you were mine forever.”
I shake my head, looking at him standing in front of me wearing the clothes he had on the first time we met for brunch. “You’re dead.”
He grins and cocks an eyebrow. “No, you’re dead.”
I’m unable to focus on anything. Insufferable pain creeps over me, and my stomach starts to hurt. None of this is real. I know it’s not, but it seems real. In a blink, Weston is in front of me with both of his hands around my throat, choking the life out of my body.
“Weston,” I barely get out. “Weston, stop.”
It’s as if someone turns on the lights, and I’m brought back to my reality as Dalton towers over me. I’m so damn disoriented that Weston is haunting me from the grave. My hallucinations are merging memories of the past with my present.
“You just called me Weston, you skanky bitch.” The back of his hand slams across my cheek. My head is pounding so hard, and I wonder why he doesn’t just finish the damn job and end me. Why continue with this charade? I have no more tears; they’ve all dried up. My broken body won’t be able to take much more before it shuts down completely, and the blackness returns.
Blinking, I see his fuzzy figure in front of me, and when my eyes finally focus, I see the devil is still taunting me. “You’re such a little cock tease.” I hear the smile in his voice. He’s giddy as fuck knowing he holds all the power over me and can easily strangle me until I lose consciousness. I don’t even know how long I was out before, but I notice my dress is ripped, and my bra is showing. All I want to do is hide from him, but he’s determined to steal every last shred of my dignity.
“Smile for the camera, sweetheart,” he purrs, snapping photos of me. “Oh, speaking of, I never showed you the pictures my brother sent me of you.”
Just when I think it can’t get any worse, it does. Dalton walks over to me, grabs my hair and jerks my head back, forcing me to look. After scrolling through his photos, he turns the screen around for me to see. What I see on his phone are intimate pictures I took for Weston. Along with pictures Weston took of me when I didn’t know. I’m disgusted by it all but keep my mouth shut because what can I fucking say?
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t jerk off to your picture a handful of times. That ass, Sophie. I might need to have a little taste before I end you,” he says, adjusting his noticeable erection.
“You might as well kill me now then,” I say, holding back the urge to vomit all over him. “You fucking disgust me!”
Dalton shakes his head. “No. No. No. I’ve got a list of things to do to you first. Cut off your fingers, one by one. Shave your head so I can have that gorgeous dark hair as a keepsake. Can’t forget knocking your teeth out. Can’t risk anyone identifying you. No ID means no way to link it back to me. But I’ve decided to add fucking you to my list too. My dick is fucking hard and needs relief, Sophie darling. You’re probably wet for me, aren’t you? My cock will ruin that cunt in no time, and then I’ll jerk my cum all over those perky tits.”
I start dry heaving when his hand slips into his pants, and he touches himself. My head is pounding so fucking hard, and every time I suck in a breath, pain radiates through me.
“Fuck you.” I spit out blood. I’m done with begging. It does no good with him anyway.
“Keep it up, and I’ll cut your goddamn tongue out too.” He inches closer and slides the knife down my cheek, then puts the cool blade against my lips. “After I make you suck me off, of course. Should we start now? Send your boy toy a video?”
While I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life, I can’t show it. Mentally, I begin building a wall between reality and where I wish I was right now—with Mason. I picture us on the couch, watching our Netflix shows, and laughing together. I take myself out of the nightmare I’m currently living and force myself inside my fantasy.