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“His brother is dead.”
If it wasn’t for the creepy look in his eyes, he’d almost look charming when he smiles.
“Of course you’d think that. My brother never knew the truth. He thinks I was kidnapped and then found dead several days later. Iwastaken, but as you can see,” he throws his arms out wide, “I’m alive and well.” He leans forward and props his elbows on his knees. “You may know me better as Grant.”
My eyes widen, and a lead ball forms in the pit of my stomach. “G-Grant?”
He grins, and that creepy look in his eyes gets even creepier.
“How are my little sister and daughter? Life just isn’t the same without them.”
I don’t say anything, too shocked by what he just revealed.Thisis the man who tormented Lili for years. Touched and raped her repeatedly since they were children. Ryker’s “dead” brother. What in the hell kind of fucked-up coincidence is that?
I ignore his question about Lili and Harper—it’s none of his fucking business how they are—and get back to the news that he’s Ryker’s brother.
“How are you alive?”
He gets up from the chair, and I stiffen as he approaches the bed. My arms jerk against the chains, and I wince when my sore wrists smart. I’m going to have hellacious bruises. My eyes stay glued to him as he comes to the side of the bed and sits down on the edge next to my knee. The light shines directly on the side of his face, and I notice an old yellow bruise on his temple. That must be where Lili smashed his head with the stone statue.
“Don’t touch me!” I yell when he lifts his hand.
I try to slide my body over as far as the chains allow, but I’m stretched too fucking tight to get far. A sick feeling slithers over my skin when he puts his hand on my thigh, right above my knee.
“So smooth and soft,” he comments, a hint of reverence in his tone. “I always wondered what you would feel like.” He licks his lips. “Better than I imagined.”
“What do you want?” I try to keep the panic out of my voice, but I probably do a shit job of it.
He slides his hand up my thigh and lifts his eyes to me. It’s the look in his gray gaze that scares me more than what he’s doing with his hand. It’s full of ownership and a twisted sense of passion.
“What I want is what I should have had for twenty years. Ryker’s life and everything in it.” His expression turns hard, andhis fingers dig into my flesh so much that I cry out. “It should have been mine. It should have been him who was taken.”
His words make zero sense, and I don’t have time to try and decipher them because his fingers relax and continue their trek up my thigh. Inches away from the crease in my leg, his hand veers inward. I try to close my legs, but it’s a useless effort because of the chains.
“For years, I waited,” he says, “and my patience has finally paid off.” His fingers brush against my dry folds, and I swallow the sudden bile rising in my throat.
Fear and anger have tears prickling my eyes, but I blink them away. I won’t give this man the satisfaction of seeing how much of what he’s doing is bothering me.
“Hmm… dry.”
He actually looks disappointed. He can’t honestly believe that I would enjoy what he’s doing. But then again, maybe he does in his little twisted mind.
“It’s okay. I’ll fix that.” Using his whole palm, he cups me between my legs. “You’ll be dripping wet by the time I’m done with you.”
I grit my teeth to hold back a scream. I want to yell and thrash and break this guy’s fingers one by one for touching me. I turn my head away and focus on the thick black curtain hanging over a window. There’s no light shining through the edge of the fabric, which means it must be night. It was mid-afternoon when I was in my art studio, so several hours must have passed.
“Look at me,” Aiden demands, but I ignore him.
What’s Ryker doing right now? What did he think when he got home and found me gone? I know he’s searching for me. Does he have any clue where I am? Is he on his way right now? Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’s outside whatever house I’m in, getting ready to bust through the door and unleash hell. I almost smilewhen I think about what he’ll do to this man. It won’t even matter that he’s his brother.
“Fucking look at me!” Aiden screams.
As he yells the words, he jams a couple—or maybe it’s three—fingers inside me so hard that I cry out in pain. I think the chains may rip into my skin at how much the metal stings when I pull and fight against their hold.
He pulls his fingers out again, only to force them back inside. It’s only fingers, it shouldn’t hurt this bad, but Jesus, it does.
“Stop!” I scream and jerk my head around to look at him. I can’t stop the flow of tears this time as they track down my cheeks. “Please!”
As soon as my gaze connects with Aiden’s, his hand stops moving. His eyes appear crazed at first, but the look quickly fades, and calmness relaxes his features.