Page 102 of Freeing Denver
I’m trembling, my knuckles white, my palms aching as I hold onto my knife and fork as if they can save me from this fate. Eli reaches over and prizes the items out of my hands.
Spider shrugs and finishes his wine. “It depends if she’s to his liking or not.”
The doorbell rings.
I can’t move. I can’t think.
Colt might not have a chance to save me. I could be gone before he even gets close to this place. Kitrick said it’s guarded, heavily. Maybe Colt isn’t even coming tonight. Maybe he needs time to plan—days or even weeks.
I’ll be gone by then.
… Dead by then.
Marnie stares at me, her eyes wide.
“Everyone out,” Spider says, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He drops it on his now empty plate. “Denver, you stay here and be polite to our guest.”
Marnie is half dragged out of her seat, staring at me desperately. Kitrick’s jaw is tight as he remains on the far side of the room.
“You heard him,” Eli says.
Kitrick lifts his chin. “Would it not be better if?—”
“Leave.” Eli’s tone is sharp, but sounds are starting to muffle quickly. Marnie’s heels clicking against the marble foyer are fading. I hardly see Kitrick’s concerned glance as he reluctantly leaves, too. Eli’s breath tickles my ear as he says, “Head down. You don’t speak unless spoken to. You don’t look him in the eye until he gives you permission. You do as you’re told, do you understand?”
I entwine my fingers in my lap to try and calm the trembling. “Please, Eli. Can’t I stay with you?”
He sighs softly, nuzzling my cheek. “I wish you could. Maybe when the baby is born, he’ll get bored of you.” He kisses mytemple. “I hope he doesn’t ruin you too much. I really do like you, Robin.”
For the first time in nearly two months, I want to beg Eli to stay by my side, if only to try and protect me from the horrors of the man about to buy me. But my pleas are lost as he gets out of his seat and leaves me alone.
The air in the room seems to thicken. A penetrating, suffocating thickness invades my lungs with every small breath I take, and it’s a miracle I’m breathing at all when I hear his approaching footsteps.
You’ll be dead before the end of the week.
A man who lives in the shadows just like Colt did. A man without a face, but with a reputation so terrifying that even Kitrick had seemed afraid of him. Or at the very least, afraid of what he might do to me.
And now he’s here. In the same room as me. Closing the space between us, step by torturous step.
I keep my head down.
My eyes closed.
I ignore the smell of his cologne, the feel of his fingertips across my shoulders, leaving marks that only burns should. He plays with my hair and I squeeze my eyes closed, praying for the strength to fight if I have to.
Because I will fight.
Until the bitter, twisted end, I’ll fight.
It feels as though I’m in a room with a beast. Nothing graceful or beautiful, just an animal that’s never been starved, so he doesn’t kill to feed, or feed to survive.
He kills because he wants to.
Because he can.
The chair across from me is pulled out, and he sighs softly as he sits.
Do I raise my eyes?
