Page 264 of His To Erase

“See how much of a mouth you’ve got after the guards take their turn. A reward for having to put up with you.”

He shrugs off a laugh. “Maybe then you’ll remember your fucking place.”

Tears sting my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. I glare up at him. If he wants to see fear, he’ll have to earn it.

He steps back, letting go of my throat—only to yank a fistful of my hair, dragging me forward.

“You’ve got five minutes to get dressed,” he snaps. “Or you’re getting on the plane like this.”

Then he throws me back onto the bed and walks out the door.

I curl into myself, arms tight, heartbeat detonating in my chest. For the first time since he took me—I’m not sure I’m going to make it. My time is up.

He’s going to take me out of this house, to God knows where, and the only thing worse than staying—is going.

My legs shake as I climb off the bed.

I need to get dressed, the last thing I want is for him to follow through with his threat and drag me out of here naked.

I stumble to the closet, flinging it open. Every option stares back at me like a threat. They’re all dresses with slits so high they should come with a warning label.

I dig through it like salvation’s hiding in the back somewhere and end up picking a dark green dress with long sleeves and a neckline that only dips a little. It hits mid-thigh and clings to everything I don’t want anyone looking at, but it’s going to have to do.

I just need to be covered.

Seconds later, there’s a knock. Or rather, three sharp bangs. That’s the only warning I get before the door swings open. And for one heart-stopping second, I brace for Frank.

But it’s not him.

It’s a new guard I haven’t seen yet. This one’s taller. Broader. He looks younger than the last one. He’s grinning as his eyescrawl down my body like they’ve been waiting for this moment all day.

Ew.

“Eyes up, perv. You’re not my type unless I lose a bet and go blind.”

He snorts—and backhands me. Hard.

My head jerks to the side as blood goes flying out of my mouth. My cheek flashes white-hot, then settles into a burn. I look up, eyes watering but still locked on him.

“Oh, good,” I rasp. “So you’re not just a perv. You’re predictable.”

I don’t even see Frank come in. One second the guard’s stalking toward me, smiling like he’s about to pounce, and the next—bang. Blood sprays the door, my face, the walls. It’s everywhere.

A scream rips out of me before I even know I’m doing it—raw and automatic, torn straight from my throat as the shot rings out and the man drops like a sack of meat in front of me.

I flinch hard, scrambling back until I hit the wall, searching for anything solid to hold onto. My spine presses into cold plaster hoping it might swallow me whole. Frank steps through the doorway, gun still raised.

His eyes burn black, wild with something that doesn’t look like rage—it looks worse. His chest heaves with slow, controlled breaths. He doesn’t even glance at the body before he steps over it, turning the gun on me. Every cell in my body is vibrating, screaming for me to move, but I can’t.

“What did I tell you,” Frank says, eerily calm, “about letting people touch what’s mine?”

My throat tightens. “It’s not like I asked him to hit me.”

Which was apparently the wrong thing to say.

He takes one step, then another—and that’s all the warning I get. The calm drops and his mask shatters. In a flash, his fingersclamp around my wrist like a vice, twisting hard enough to make something pop. I cry out, stumbling forward, but he doesn’t stop. His other hand slams across my face right where the guard just did, and I can feel blood drip down my face.

The room tilts as my knees hit the marble.