“Yes,” I whisper, a tear falling down my cheek.
“Good,” he replies. “Now, get out of my sight. You’re a disgrace.”
I hold in a strangled sob and run upstairs. Mom ignores me as I pass, singing along to the radio as she wipes the kitchen surfaces with more vigor than usual.
“I’m heading to work, Jocelyn,” I hear Dad say. “Erin is not to leave this house under any circumstances.”
“I’ve called the academy to let them know she’s unwell,” Mom says.
“Very good,” he says, before slamming the front door hard enough to knock a hanging portrait off of the wall.
Back in the safety of my bedroom, I sink to my knees. My head spins from the medication taking effect. The drugs must be strong for him to leave the house without worry of me escaping. Istruggle to my feet, gripping onto my drawers for balance as my surroundings blur in and out of focus. My knees threaten to give way, but I grapple my way to the bed. I tug the curtains closed before collapsing into my cushions.
It’s impossible to tell how much time drifts by. I curl into the fetal position, fighting to keep my eyes open, while my mind refuses to switch off. Every emotion comes to the surface: fear, anger, frustration. Whenever one rises, it gets tempered again and numbed, like they’re wrestling to free themselves, drowning inside my brain while battling to catch their breath against an oncoming tide.
“I’m going to the spa, darling,” Mom says from somewhere in the abyss. “I’ll be back later. Feel better soon!”
I ignore her, pulling my blood-soaked robe tighter around me.
Silence stretches on until my bathroom door opens, and a chilling British voice says, “I thought they’d never leave.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
ERIN
I lookinto Three’s masked face. A balaclava with slits for eyes stares back. His long-sleeved black Henley is tight, hugging toned biceps, and his black leather gloves are pulled up to his elbows. I can’t see any hint of his skin aside from a tiny opening around his neck, where his collar ends and the balaclava begins. I focus on that. The only thing separating him from a shadow.
“Are you real?” I whisper, unable to trust my mind.
He tilts his head to the left. “What do you think, Little Ghost?”
The motion makes his mask twitch, exposing more of his neck. Pink raised scars cover his skin. Burns.
“What…” My tongue feels too large for my mouth. “Wh…”
I wanted to see them again, but not as a mute mannequin. So many unanswered questions sit on the tip of my tongue, starting with what happened last night. Yet, I can’t ask them.
He chuckles. He appears to be alone. Out of the three men, he makes me the most nervous. A dark energy engulfs him, and I know he wants to make me scream.
“Your daddy’s medication doesn’t interact well with ours,” he says. “But you want to be used, don’t you? That’s why you letGilsmear’s dirty hands taint you. You put on a show for us like the filthy slut you are.”
I shake my head, and slur, “I want?—”
“That’s your first mistake, Little Ghost.” He holds up a finger. “Thinking that your wants matter. You thought you could get us to do your bidding by bending over for another man. It was foolish to believe you could summon us at will. Remember, you’re not the one in control. We are. We decide what happens to you and when. That’s how this works.”
“Sarah…” I murmur. “What?—”
He sighs, sauntering closer and sitting on the edge of my bed. I’m tempted to grab his mask and see the man underneath, but his intense stare holds me captive. His hazel eyes are flecked with bright amber, like tiny flames.
“I’m not here to talk about your sister.” He picks a strand of my hair. “I’m here to remind you that actions have consequences. You toyed with us. The others already have their souvenirs, but I need you to be awake for what I want. Although…” His voice trails off and takes on a new hard edge. “Your father has made that more difficult.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m going to make you beg,” he says. He takes a lighter from his pocket and flicks it on. “You’re going to scream until your throat is hoarse, and you can’t make another sound.”
He waves the flame in front of my face, heating my cheeks. I yelp as he swipes it across a strand of my hair, and it catches at the end. I pat it down as a horrible, singed smell fills the room.
