Page 28 of Pretty Savage: Defy

By the fourth nail, Jackson’s threats have vanished. By the fifth, he is crying too hard to form complete sentences.

I stop because I’m running out of time, not because he has suffered enough.

He will never suffer enough.

I wipe the pliers on the sheet and lean over him, bracing one hand beside his head. His face is slick with sweat. The arrogance he carries through Ashford House is gone, leaving a frightened man strapped to a bed in a room where he believed only women were supposed to feel powerless.

“What I need you to understand,” I say, “is that Laurel belongs to me.”

He nods frantically.

“You won’t speak to her unless she speaks to you first. You won’t enter a room she’s in without my permission. You won’t say her name while you’re fucking women you selected because they resemble her.”

His eyes widen, and I know I’m right.

I wrap my hand around his throat.

The pulse under my palm beats fast and fragile. It would take very little pressure to stop it. Jackson recognizes that too. His body goes still despite the pain in his foot.

“I won’t do it again,” he whispers, voice raw from screaming.

“No, you won’t.”

“I swear.”

“Your promises have never impressed me.”

I lower my mouth near his ear, close enough that he can feel my breath.

“If you touch her again, I won’t come here with a time limit. I’ll take you apart slowly enough that the healing spray becomes the worst thing ever invented, because every time you think you’ve reached the end of what a body can endure, I’ll put you back together and begin again.”

A tremor passes through him.

“This is the warning.”

I release his throat and straighten.

Jackson watches as I pack the torch, spray, dagger, and pliers into the kit. I leave the nails on his pillow. They belong to him, and I want him to see them in case he wonders whether this was a drug-induced nightmare.

At the door, his voice stops me.

“Aren’t you going to let me go?”

I look back at him, naked and bleeding, his arms and legs pulled toward the corners of the bed.

“No.”

“Carrson.”

“Someone will find you eventually.”

“Who?”

I glance toward the empty space where the two women were lying. “Maybe one of the women you were with. I’m sure you treated them nicely enough that they would come back to check on you.”

Silence from him.

“That’s what I thought.” I close the door behind me.