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Back to his wife.
I wanted him here. With me.
Caleb knelt by my side, running one finger down the side of my face while the other clutched his phone. I tried to cringe away, but he wouldn’t let me, his fingers digging into the side of my jaw. A tear slid down my face at him touching me.
“Relax. We’re just having a little private party.” He leaned in and licked the tear from my cheek. “Cry for them, baby. I bet they like it too.”
I sucked up every ounce of energy I had and screamed instead.
Caleb cut me off with another slap to the face. His words went fuzzy, the ringing in my ears taking over again. It took a minute for it to subside.
“…You probably fuck her tight cunt like that all the time, don’t you? Your other friends there too? I knew you’d all like my parties. You’re my kind of men.”
I tried to crawl away, but the drugging slowness made every movement nearly impossible. Caleb’s boot connected with my stomach, and I wheezed, blinking up at him.
He’d dropped his phone somewhere, the full extent of his hate now fully focused on me. “You had to find my dirty little secret in the bottom of the basement there, didn’t you?”
The girl. “Who is she?”
A dragging noise came from somewhere, but I was too out of it to work out where.
“What do you care? She’s as dead as you are.”
He jerked me up off the ground and shoved me into an outdoor chair. I couldn’t hold myself upright. I slumped to one side, head lolling onto my shoulder while I struggled to keep my eyes open.
He leaned down so we were eye height and ran his thumb over my lips and then forced it into my mouth. “Shame your boyfriends know where we are. I’d quite like to put my dick here and fuck your sweet mouth some. But framing them for your murder is fun too.”
He knelt in front of me. I wanted to kick him in the face, but my legs were dead weights, not moving at all.
I had no power to stop him when he spread my knees, strapping each ankle to the legs of the chair.
All I could do was watch through half-mast eyes when he roughly jerked my hands behind my back and tied them there.
He covered his hand with his sleeve and picked up Kian’s pocketknife from his work bench.
How many stabs would it take for him to kill me? Only one if he got it in the right place.
That seemed too controlled for Caleb. I braced myself for the frenzy of stabs that seemed more his style.
I was too out of it to move. Too out of it to make any more noise, even though I tried.
But my heart ached. It ached to tell Fang I loved him too.
It ached for Vaughn and the fact he was coming home to witness another murder.
It ached for Kian, whose fingerprints were going to be found on the murder weapon.
Caleb took a handful of my Lycra bodysuit and sliced right down the middle, cutting the fabric right from beneath my neck to my navel, then ripping it the rest of the way until it hung in tatters from my body and I was bared to him again.
Just the way he liked.
Vulnerable.
Weak.
His gaze roamed over me, lingering on the junction of my thighs and my tits. My skin pebbled with goosebumps from the cold. I tried to scream again, but no sound came out. My vocal cords refused to obey.
Caleb pulled out his phone, snapping photos, then grinned at me. “A souvenir for me to get off to later, since I don’t have time to fuck you now. Shame. I’ve missed your tight holes. Dreamed about having you again, and then there you were, slutting it up with my old pal Vaughn and his boys. Such a fucking shame.”