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“Don’t worry, amor, I’ll help you. We can do this together.” He kissed the top of my head, bringing us both closer to the girl he had chained up.
No.
No, no, no.
I held onto the knife, suddenly aware that he’d put on gloves. He had gloves, but I didn’t. Why—
His gloved hand curled around mine, and Ray guided my hand. He guided my hand and the knife until it was too late. My mouth was open, and I swore I could taste the metal in the air when the knife punctured the girl’s abdomen. She whimpered, crying out into her gag, and her desperate, muffled plea for help only grew louder the deeper in the metal went.
I was getting blood on my hand.
I didn’t want this.
This wasn’t me.
This wasn’t him.
This was…some awful, horrible dream I couldn’t wake from.
Ray’s hand left mine, leaving me the sole owner of the knife in the girl’s stomach. She was still alive, but I didn’t know how long she’d be. “There,” he said, approvingly, “that wasn’t so hard, was it, Ash?”
The moment he said my name, I snapped back into my body. If this was a nightmare, I was going to have to fight to wake up.
So that’s what I did.
I yanked the knife out of the girl, splattering myself with bright red blood, twirling on Ray and stabbing him in the side. He wasn’t expecting that at all; I could tell by the way his green eyes widened and he stumbled back.
I didn’t wait for him to recover himself. I couldn’t. If I wanted to make it out of this cabin alive, I had to do one thing.
Run.
I ran, and yet this was where I ended up. Right where I started, as if I’d never run from him to begin with. My gaze studied his scar; it looked a lot better than it did before. In the news, in videos of him, he’d always been hunched over, as if it never properly healed. It looked fine, now.
Ray must’ve sensed that I was lost in my own head, for he said, “Ash, I let you get away once. You’re not getting away from me again, you understand that, don’t you? I need you. Without you, I’m nothing.”
Those words sounded exactly like the ones Declan had tried to tell me, the ones Travis had proclaimed. Even Will. Sawyer was the one who said he didn’t need me, and guess what? I didn’t need him, either. I didn’t need any of them.
He moved toward me, reaching for me. Ray pulled me closer, and since I wore nothing but a flimsy slip of a nightgown, I could feel his warmth and his hard chest against mine. “Tell me,” he said, a darkness shadowing his face. “Tell me that you’re mine, Ash.”
If I didn’t, would he kill me? If I didn’t…what was the point?
My lips parted, and I spoke the words I’d probably hate myself for later, “I’m yours.” What else could I say? What else could I do? Heaven nor hell could keep this man from me. He was my destiny, and we’d go down in flames together.
His mouth curled into a smile, and he brought his face to mine. Our lips met, his hands gripping my sides so hard they’d bruise. His lips fed a warmth to mine, a passion I couldn’t fight. After all, I’d fought this man at every turn—stabbed him, set the cops on him, pretended like he didn’t exist—and here he was, ready to unravel me.
And he would. In his hands, I was defenseless, helpless.
My name was Ashley Bonds, and I was his.
Chapter Twenty-Six – Will
For whatever reason, Declan wasn’t able to see me home. More than fine, because Dad had it handled. He had it handled so much, he’d even bought me my own wheelchair, which I definitely didn’t need. He tried to get me in it after driving me back to my apartment—which was a hassle getting him to agree to to begin with—but I managed to wave him off and get out of the car on my own.
A bit sore, with a new prescription of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, but I was home.
“I am sorry your brother’s not here,” Dad went on, hurrying to call the elevator. “He didn’t give me a reason why, but I will have a talk with him later—” We got in the elevator, closing out the day’s bright rays.
“You don’t have to walk with me to my apartment,” I said. “I know the way.”
