He Will be My Ruin
Page 87
I don’t even scream. Without even trying, I know that my voice is long gone.
Is this his place?
Picking up a loose brick, Jace breaks the panel of glass in the door and reaches through with gloved hands to unlock it. He disappears inside.
I guess it’s not his place.
I stay where I am, pondering how this could have gone so differently had I not let my guard down. It was a beautiful setup, really. Cameras at Hollingsworth would have captured nothing more than a five-minute conversation and then an amicable farewell, with Jace leaving before me.
That side street was dark and empty and, I’m certain, void of any security cameras. Of course he couldn’t know for sure that I’d accept his offer, that I’d be thirsty enough to take the water he had prepared especially for me. He could only hope for it.
And it paid off.
Boots crunching against snow announces his return. “You’re a stubborn bitch, right to the end.” He hoists me to my feet by my arms. I struggle to stand, and so he ends up half-dragging me through the snow and in through the door. It leads into the cabin’s unfinished basement, nothing but concrete-block walls with exposed joists above and two naked bulbs to give some light. A furnace sits in the far right corner, a flight of wooden stairs ahead.
He shoves me at the stairs. “Climb, now.”
“I can’t. My wrists,” I manage, my voice a hoarse whisper.
He grabs the binding, and I wince in pain and expectation, thinking he’ll drag me. But after a few sharp tugs and the sound of cord being cut, my arms flop to the stairs, freed.
And now I know that he has a knife.
“Get upstairs.”
Slowly, and painfully, I crawl each of the soft steps that still smell of fresh pine, like they were recently built. When I reach the main floor of what looks like a small but homey A-frame cabin, Jace forces me to the left, toward a blindingly bright light and a tub of running water.
He pushes the bathroom door open and a wall of steam hits my face. “No, no . . .” My head shakes and I try to take steps back but I’m too weak, too numb.
“Get in.” A violent tug and tearing sound, and the next thing I know my dress is on the floor and I’m down to my soiled undergarments and Jace is lifting me into the bathtub.
I’m stabbed by thousands of sharp prickles as the hot water touches my frozen skin. My mouth opens, but I find no relief in my soundless screams, as he stands there and watches me suffer.
I begin to cry.
CHAPTER 45
Maggie
Even though I suspected Jace at one point, being in this situation now is surreal. I look up at him, hovering over me with arms crossed, waiting for—I assume—my body to thaw, and I still can’t believe this is happening.
That he is capable of this kind of cruelty.
“Don’t bother fighting back,” Jace warns, his voice hollow and deathly calm. He grabs hold of the plug with gloved hands and releases it. The now-cool bath water begins draining quickly.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, and my throat burns with the question.
“Because you wouldn’t fucking stop. You just kept pushing and pushing and—” Anger slips into his tone and he abruptly cuts himself off. When he speaks again, it’s back to that eerie calm. “If you’d just left it alone, this wouldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t have to do this. You brought this on yourself. You did. This is your fault. No one else’s fault but yours.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
He glares at me, but in his eyes, I see a wild mix of panic and fear burning bright. “She was going to destroy my life.”
“No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t the one blackmailing you. Grady was!” I’m waiting for Childs to confirm that, but I’m sure of it. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” He bites the inside of his lip. “If she hadn’t been a whore, then none of this would have happened. But because she was a whore, she invited that sick fuck into our lives to try and ruin me.”
The water is receding quickly, exposing my pink, raw skin to the cool air, making me shiver uncontrollably. I curl my limbs around my body to ward off his icy blue eyes as they travel over me.
His lips twist in an unpleasant smirk. “Where is that confident Maggie Sparkes who liked to dress up and tease me in my office?”
I glare at him. “She’s been kidnapped. It doesn’t suit her.”
“There she is . . . Don’t worry. There’s nothing about you right now that turns me on.”
Then why throw me into the bath? I assumed it was because I pissed and vomited all over myself, and he wanted me clean before he violated me.
Even with the shock of the hot water, I still feel groggy. “What did you give me?”
“It doesn’t feel good, waking up after someone has drugged you, does it?”
I glare at him.
“I wasn’t sure how well the Ambien would work on its own so I added a Percocet. You went down faster than I expected. I’m guessing the champagne helped.”
And here I was, worried about a hangover.
His voice turns icy again. “Get up.”
I use the sides of the tub to brace myself as I stand, every inch of my body sore. There’s no point in refusing him, because I’m guessing it’ll just cause me pain.
That doesn’t mean that I won’t fight back.
Jace takes several steps back, as if he can read my thoughts. “Don’t try anything because it’ll only end badly for you.” As if to prove how badly, he retrieves the serrated hunting knife from the leather holder attached to his hip, and a gleam of light catching the sharp blade stalls my plan of attack.
He changed at some point, exchanging the suit from the auction house for a simple black crewneck and black pants. I don’t know what he has planned for me, but the black leather gloves tell me it’s something that requires covering his tracks.
I need to be smart. Injuries will make it harder to run.
And I still don’t have my full strength. Even after soaking in a hot bath, my bones ache and my body shakes uncontrollably. I’ve never felt cold like this before in my life, right to my core, as if I’ll never fully thaw. “Can I have a towel?”
“No. Walk.”
With wariness, I do, catching my reflection in the mirror—a hideous version of myself, the little makeup I wore to the auction streaking my cheeks. Dark bruises have already formed around my arms.
Is this his place?
Picking up a loose brick, Jace breaks the panel of glass in the door and reaches through with gloved hands to unlock it. He disappears inside.
I guess it’s not his place.
I stay where I am, pondering how this could have gone so differently had I not let my guard down. It was a beautiful setup, really. Cameras at Hollingsworth would have captured nothing more than a five-minute conversation and then an amicable farewell, with Jace leaving before me.
That side street was dark and empty and, I’m certain, void of any security cameras. Of course he couldn’t know for sure that I’d accept his offer, that I’d be thirsty enough to take the water he had prepared especially for me. He could only hope for it.
And it paid off.
Boots crunching against snow announces his return. “You’re a stubborn bitch, right to the end.” He hoists me to my feet by my arms. I struggle to stand, and so he ends up half-dragging me through the snow and in through the door. It leads into the cabin’s unfinished basement, nothing but concrete-block walls with exposed joists above and two naked bulbs to give some light. A furnace sits in the far right corner, a flight of wooden stairs ahead.
He shoves me at the stairs. “Climb, now.”
“I can’t. My wrists,” I manage, my voice a hoarse whisper.
He grabs the binding, and I wince in pain and expectation, thinking he’ll drag me. But after a few sharp tugs and the sound of cord being cut, my arms flop to the stairs, freed.
And now I know that he has a knife.
“Get upstairs.”
Slowly, and painfully, I crawl each of the soft steps that still smell of fresh pine, like they were recently built. When I reach the main floor of what looks like a small but homey A-frame cabin, Jace forces me to the left, toward a blindingly bright light and a tub of running water.
He pushes the bathroom door open and a wall of steam hits my face. “No, no . . .” My head shakes and I try to take steps back but I’m too weak, too numb.
“Get in.” A violent tug and tearing sound, and the next thing I know my dress is on the floor and I’m down to my soiled undergarments and Jace is lifting me into the bathtub.
I’m stabbed by thousands of sharp prickles as the hot water touches my frozen skin. My mouth opens, but I find no relief in my soundless screams, as he stands there and watches me suffer.
I begin to cry.
CHAPTER 45
Maggie
Even though I suspected Jace at one point, being in this situation now is surreal. I look up at him, hovering over me with arms crossed, waiting for—I assume—my body to thaw, and I still can’t believe this is happening.
That he is capable of this kind of cruelty.
“Don’t bother fighting back,” Jace warns, his voice hollow and deathly calm. He grabs hold of the plug with gloved hands and releases it. The now-cool bath water begins draining quickly.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, and my throat burns with the question.
“Because you wouldn’t fucking stop. You just kept pushing and pushing and—” Anger slips into his tone and he abruptly cuts himself off. When he speaks again, it’s back to that eerie calm. “If you’d just left it alone, this wouldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t have to do this. You brought this on yourself. You did. This is your fault. No one else’s fault but yours.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
He glares at me, but in his eyes, I see a wild mix of panic and fear burning bright. “She was going to destroy my life.”
“No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t the one blackmailing you. Grady was!” I’m waiting for Childs to confirm that, but I’m sure of it. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” He bites the inside of his lip. “If she hadn’t been a whore, then none of this would have happened. But because she was a whore, she invited that sick fuck into our lives to try and ruin me.”
The water is receding quickly, exposing my pink, raw skin to the cool air, making me shiver uncontrollably. I curl my limbs around my body to ward off his icy blue eyes as they travel over me.
His lips twist in an unpleasant smirk. “Where is that confident Maggie Sparkes who liked to dress up and tease me in my office?”
I glare at him. “She’s been kidnapped. It doesn’t suit her.”
“There she is . . . Don’t worry. There’s nothing about you right now that turns me on.”
Then why throw me into the bath? I assumed it was because I pissed and vomited all over myself, and he wanted me clean before he violated me.
Even with the shock of the hot water, I still feel groggy. “What did you give me?”
“It doesn’t feel good, waking up after someone has drugged you, does it?”
I glare at him.
“I wasn’t sure how well the Ambien would work on its own so I added a Percocet. You went down faster than I expected. I’m guessing the champagne helped.”
And here I was, worried about a hangover.
His voice turns icy again. “Get up.”
I use the sides of the tub to brace myself as I stand, every inch of my body sore. There’s no point in refusing him, because I’m guessing it’ll just cause me pain.
That doesn’t mean that I won’t fight back.
Jace takes several steps back, as if he can read my thoughts. “Don’t try anything because it’ll only end badly for you.” As if to prove how badly, he retrieves the serrated hunting knife from the leather holder attached to his hip, and a gleam of light catching the sharp blade stalls my plan of attack.
He changed at some point, exchanging the suit from the auction house for a simple black crewneck and black pants. I don’t know what he has planned for me, but the black leather gloves tell me it’s something that requires covering his tracks.
I need to be smart. Injuries will make it harder to run.
And I still don’t have my full strength. Even after soaking in a hot bath, my bones ache and my body shakes uncontrollably. I’ve never felt cold like this before in my life, right to my core, as if I’ll never fully thaw. “Can I have a towel?”
“No. Walk.”
With wariness, I do, catching my reflection in the mirror—a hideous version of myself, the little makeup I wore to the auction streaking my cheeks. Dark bruises have already formed around my arms.
