“Father, you agreed she would be mine,” Bryton’s grumbles in anger.
“Yes, yes, of course, but perhaps these two could just borrow her for a day or two and promise that she will be intact when she returns.”
I don’t want to hear any more. I can feel the heat of Niko and Viktor’s attention, but I pay it no mind as I quickly tidy up the table and make my way to the kitchen to clean the mess from dinner.
Bryton and Stephan allow me this freedom. They believe me a stupid, broken girl.
My attention surveils the area until I find what I am looking for. A knife will be noticed, even a fork, but what about a grapefruit spoon? It’s sharp around the edges, and it won’t be missed.Hopefully.
I quickly wedge it into the band of the shorts I am wearing.
“Doll, let’s go to your room.” Bryton’s voice almost causes me to jump out of my skin, but I don’t.
I turn slowly to him. “I am cleaning as directed,” I pause, “sir.” I add the word begrudgingly, attempting to maintain my passive tone.
His lips lift cruelly. “It wasn’t a fucking question,doll.Those men will be back tomorrow to collect their payment. I want them to know who owns you.”
Bryton reaches for my wrist and drags me back towards my room. Anxiety skitters down my spine, but something else entirely pulsates as well.
Excitement.
Chapter 6
One More Twist
Heleadsmepastthe dining room—the guests noticeably missing—and down the hall to Stephan’s room. I am surprised to see he isn’t in there waiting, but I don’t question it. The guests are gone, and he isn’t nearby.
The grapefruit spoon presses into me with every step, a reminder of my plans, of where this is going to lead.
Katarina’s stuffed animal is tucked away safely. I refuse to ruin the last item tethering her to this world.
I have one shot. One chance. And then I will reunite with my sister.
If he locks me in the collar, I won’t be able to fight back. If he shuts the door too quickly, I won’t be able to get to Stephan.
Bryton pushes me down onto the pallet. I land as carefully as I can in the small space.
He reaches above me to grab my collar.
I make a decision. “Leave it off, and I’ll do it like you want. Talk to you how you want me to,” I purr the words out easily as I look up at him through my lashes. I reach behind me to turn the lamp off. “In the dark, it’s just you and me.”
The TV is still on, and its light is enough to see as indecision swirls across his face. I push out my chest and reach for him gently, softly.
“Come here, big brother,” I say in the girliest voice I can muster as insects crawl across my skin.
The words have landed. He drops the collar, reaching forward instead.
I ignore the nausea that bubbles up my throat as he sticks his tongue down it. Instead, I use one hand to latch onto him while the other reaches behind me. It takes a few minutes to find what I’m looking for, and by the time my fingers touch the lightbulb, his hands have begun to explore. They are getting too close to the spoon I have hidden away.
One more twist—
“What the fuck is this?” Bryton is so focused on the front of my pants, where the spoon is, that he doesn’t see my other hand.
Doesn’t notice the fluorescent lightbulb in it. At least not until I am slamming it into his eyes.
It lands with a sickening crunch, and he tries to fight me, but he can no longer see. The glass has shattered in his open eyes, and pinpricks of blood are pebbling.
“You bitch!” he howls the words, flailing about, but he stumbles.
