Page 51 of Sacred Vow

TILLY

B lood trickles down the side of my face as consciousness returns in waves, and as agony pounds through my skull, everything rushes back. The camping trip. My apartment. Jordan.

Fuck.

My eyes spring open into a dark room, and I find myself hanging by chains, my tiptoes barely scraping the ground. My arms ache, and I distantly wonder how long I’ve been hanging here, but none of that matters. All that matters is getting the fuck out of here.

I blink into the darkness, trying to make out shapes, and as my eyes adjust, I realize that I’m in some kind of storm cellar.

Old metal shelving lines the walls, stacked with canned food that looks as though it went out of date in the seventies.

There are two sets of bunk beds on either side of the small room, and a set of stairs that leads up to what I can only assume is someone’s backyard.

What the fuck is going on? Did Jordan bring me here?

My heart races, panic coursing through my veins and making me want to hurl, but I hold it back, too determined to get out of here.

There’s clearly only one way in and one way out, and as far as I can tell, I’m all alone in this little hellhole.

The only question is, what exactly does Jordan think he’s going to do to me down here?

He’s been more than handsy with me the few times I’ve seen him, and after that frat party where Zeph knocked him out, I can only assume that he’s brought me down here to finish the job.

There’s no doubt about it. He’ll rape me, and while it’s not something I thought I would ever have to mentally prepare for, I can at least try.

But does it get worse than that? Will he just hold me down here for a while before finally letting me go, leaving me traumatized and broken?

Or does he have something a little more sinister in store for me?

Was that camping trip the last ray of happiness I’ll ever get before he murders me in this shitty little storm cellar?

Will I ever get to see the light of day again?

I don’t know whether to be relieved that it’s just Jordan and not the mystery Vag Destroyer. Both situations are shit, but with Jordan, I can hold on to the hope that someone will eventually find me. They have to, right?

If this storm cellar is in his backyard, then what are the chances that Zephyr has been here before? Maybe he played in this very cellar as a kid. But The Vag Destroyer, not even Caesar could figure out who the fuck he is.

Fuck. How is this my life?

I pull against the heavy chains on my wrists, trying to get leverage against the ground, but it quickly becomes clear that I’m well and truly fucked. I’m not going anywhere, not until someone physically gets me down.

Minutes drag out, and with every passing second, my arms begin to truly ache until their pain becomes worse than the throbbing in my skull.

The trickle of blood on my face has dried, and as I glance down at my body, I try to take note of the injuries I’ve already sustained.

There are a few cuts and bruises along my thighs, and while it’s dark in here and hard to see, I swear there’s a small piece of glass protruding from my waist. My back aches, and as I move around, I notice a few places where the ache is more of a sharp sting, and I can only assume that there’s more glass embedded there.

At least an hour passes before I hear the sound of metal against metal outside the heavy door, and my eyes become glued to the opening.

The sound sends shivers through my spine, and as fear creates a lump in my throat, making it hard to breathe, I keep myself focused, not knowing what’s about to come.

The door opens a moment later, and the bright sunlight floods through the opening, momentarily blinding me as two people stride into the cellar. I squint into the brightness as they walk down the steps, leaving the door open behind them.

My eyes quickly adjust, and when I take in the faces before me, I suck in a sharp breath.

The woman from Vixen—the one and only bitch who’d broken into Caesar’s home only a week ago—stands in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest as she looks at me with disgust.

Annie scoffs and looks back at Jordan, and as they stand together, I can see slight similarities between them. Is this Jordan’s mother?

“All that fuss for this?” she says, her gaze returning to me, sweeping up and down my body. “What a waste.”

“Wow,” I say, nodding my head while trying not to cry.

“I’ve gotta give it to you. I didn’t see this one coming.

If I could give you a round of applause, I would.

Though in hindsight, I suppose I’m not all that surprised.

After the bullshit you pulled at Caesar’s place last week, it’s clear the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

You’re both fucking crazy. I wonder if you could get a two-for-one deal at the asylum. ”

Jordan pushes forward, his fist already swinging into my ribs. “Listen here, you little bitch,” he growls as pain radiates through my side, stepping in so close I can smell the old sweat lingering on his skin. “I’m running this show. You don’t get to talk to my mother like that.”

Bingo. She’s his mother.

I wonder if Caesar knew that. However, considering he couldn’t even recall her name, I doubt that he has any idea of the connection.

“Your mother’s a whore,” I spit at him, hating the insult, but if it gets under his skin, then there’s no line I won’t cross. “You should see the way she gives it up to every man she comes across at that club. They just use her and move on. Don’t even bother remembering her name.”

My eyes flick across to Annie, watching the way my words seem to drown her where she stands. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re just some young piece of meat, something for him to play with, but in the end, it’s always me he comes back to.”

“Riiiight. Sure. You keep telling yourself that. Give it another three years, and he might even learn your last name.”

She scoffs. “Like he pays any attention to you.”

I laugh, and the movement makes my ribs ache, but it’s worth it to watch her squirm.

“He knows everything there is to know about me, and on top of that, I know everything about him. I know his son, his home, his life, his whole damn world. I know how his lips taste on mine, the way his arms feel around me when we’re lying in his bed. ”

Okay, sure. Some of those things are drastic overexaggerations, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She shakes her head, disbelief brimming in her eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” I say, repeating the very same phrase he used when she realized he didn’t know her name.

“You saw us in his home. You saw the way he stood protectively in front of me. That man is in love with me, and you know it. You can feel it in your bones. You can’t deny it, and now that you’ve done this, he will never forgive you.

He will never touch you or even bother to look at you again.

You’ll be nothing more than trash to him. ”

Annie clenches her jaw, hateful ugliness in her eyes, before a twisted smirk pulls across her face.

“You see, all of that might matter if he ever found out about this, but he won’t because once Jordan is through with you, there’ll be nothing left.

You’ll be nothing but a distant memory, and when Caesar’s poor little heart is broken, he’ll come seeking comfort, familiarity, and that is when I’ll get him. ”

My jaw clenches, my gaze shifting toward Jordan when Annie steps into me, her hand lifting to the massive egg on my temple.

She presses against it, that smirk twisting further as delight shines through her haunting stare.

“When he’s through with you, you’re going to wish for death,” she promises me as I do what I can to pull away from her touch.

“But between you and me, if you push him just right, he might even give it to you.”

Annie laughs and turns on her heel, her gaze flicking to her deranged son. “Do your worst.”

And with that, she strides out of the cellar, letting the heavy door slam shut and sending the cellar into a crippling darkness.

My gaze remains locked on Jordan, watching as he casually moves around the room. There are a few ways this could go down, but without a shadow of doubt, I don’t want to find out.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” I tell him as the sound of his footsteps makes my stomach knot with unease. I don’t want to entertain any conversation with him, but if all those cop shows have taught me anything, it’s that getting them talking can buy you time.

“I already have, Natalie. Not a soul saw me leaving your apartment, and if they did, they didn’t give enough of a shit about you to do anything about it. You’re a nobody. Trash. Just some whore who enjoys getting on her knees.”

I scoff. “Is that what all of this is about? Because I refused to fuck you.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head as though my assumption is below him. “Of course, it all revolves around you, doesn’t it, princess? Because all every man in this fucking world wants is to get fucked by the one and only Natalie Bardot. Are you that self-centered?”

“Then what?” I demand, my arms feeling as though they’re just moments from snapping off.

“What the hell am I supposed to think? You’re the one who demanded I fuck you on the street, and then you tried to shove your grimy hands down my pants at that frat party.

You’re fucking sick and delusional. So you tell me, if you didn’t do all of this just to fuck me, then why go to all the effort to trash my apartment and bring me here? ”

He clenches his jaw, his hands balling into fists before finally exploding with rage. “BECAUSE YOU MADE HIM HATE ME.”

“What? Who?”