Page 33 of Love You To Pieces

“Yes, little rabbit. I’m not going to let your dog starve. She’s eaten twice today, unlike you.” After a few more seconds he pulls me back, getting an unhappy whine from Pearl in return. “She’ll be back,” Deacon calls, as though she can understand him. “You need to sleep anyway. And before you ask, yes. She has water, a dog house, and I’ll feed her again. Satisfied?”

“Not really,” I can’t help but grumble. Satisfied isn’t even on my radar.

But if he cares, or has any opinion on my current emotional state, Deacon keeps it to himself. His grip shifts until he’s holding my hand, but it’s no less absolute as he drags me back up to the porch.

“Fox says no more dog kennel today.” He sighs before opening the door and glancing at me, the intention clear on his face. “He says it’s too much. Do you know what I think?”

“No.” I don’t really care what he thinks, and I look away from him, already walking inside, only for Deacon to grab me by the hair and shove me into the hallway until my back hits the shiplap wall. It pulls a gasp from my throat, but before I can even think to fight him, my hands are thrust to the wall above me, and Deacon is suddenly in my space.

“I think you’re wearing Fox’s clothes, you smell a little like him, and I bet”—he leans in, his eyes on mine, looking like chips of blue ice—“I bet you taste like him, don’t you little rabbit?” That’s all he says before closing the last of the space between us, his lips quickly finding mine.

But his kiss is nothing like Fox’s.

Deacon kisses hard, his movements dominant and his mouth aggressive. He nips at my lower lip until I gasp, and my hands curl into his as he holds them above me. When he bites down again, my lips part, and he uses the opening to sweep his tongue around my mouth, tasting every inch of space between my teeth.

“Yeah.” He laughs darkly when he pulls away, seeming satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Did he kiss you after he brushed your hair?” Deacon taunts. “I bet he was just so sweet, wasn’t he, Sadie-Rae?” The way he sneers my name is part arrogance, part something darker and less friendly. “Oh, but you haven’t seen just how sweet Fox can be.”

He kisses me again before I can evaluate that statement, and every single thought in my brain focuses on the feeling of his teeth nipping at my mouth, my jaw, and then finally, biting down hard on the side of my neck.

I gasp, going up on tiptoe, trying to create space and get closer all at once. Again my hands jerk in his grip, fingers curling into his, but I don’t make any headway in that endeavor.

Deacon scoffs against my throat and pulls away, his grin a sneer. “Adorable,” he says, though I can’t tell if it’s an insult or a compliment. “Just fucking adorable. Though I still think we should keep you in a kennel until you learn some house manners.”

Without warning, I’m up and over his shoulder, squawking out a protest he ignores. He walks through the kitchen, slowing down for something I can’t see, before his long strides take us right back up the stairs and to the room where I started.

Again.

My blond captor dumps me unceremoniously on the bed, and I whip my head up to glare up at him. He chuckles, one hand coming out to run his fingers through my now tangle-free hair.

“Stay,” he tells me, not very kindly. “Or I’ll do a lot worse than put you in a kennel, Sadie-Rae. I fucking promise you that.” In a quick motion, he tosses me the two apples he apparently stopped for, and a water bottle he fishes out of the pocket of his shorts.

Then, with a quick, still not very friendly smile, Deacon leaves, closing the door behind him without locking it and leaving me with food, water, and tingling lips I can’t help but touch.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Falling asleep isn’t part of the grand plan until it is.

Once the apples and water are gone, my body seems to decide that a long nap is next on the agenda, though I try very hard to disagree. After sunset should be my time to plan, not crash out on the bed with my face planted into a soft, cool pillow.

No matter how hard I try, however, my body’s needs win out. Even though, in my opinion, I’ve been unconscious enough in the last week to last me for a month.

But my brain’s logic can’t compete, and I can feel my breathing evening out, my eyes impossibly heavy against the pillow in the room with lacy curtains and a window.

Maybe just a few minutes won’t hurt, I finally allow, before finally losing myself to unconsciousness.

Sitting upright with a gasp feels like breaking through icy water. Shock ricochets through my system, and I dig my fingers into the blankets pooling around me, blinking rapidly.

Where am I?

The dark room doesn’t feel familiar. It doesn’t smell like my room; it isn’t the same, and⁠—

Right.

I know where I am, though my heart plunges to my stomach when I remember. My first real sleep that wasn’t drug-induced or in a dog kennel was the best I’ve had in probably months, but being disoriented and unaware now that I’m awake is unpleasant enough that I’m not sure it was worth it.

“Fuck me…” I sigh, my fingers going through my mostly tangle-free hair. It’s impossible not to remember Fox’s attention from the day before, and how careful he was to spare me any discomfort when he worked a brush through the knots, like…like he really cared.

But he doesn’t care, I remind myself. He’s a literal monster in the middle of nowhere, Texas, who’s keeping me against my will, probably to chop me up and sell off my parts like what happened to my friends.